Total Drama Outrage
by AnonymousGrimsby
Summary: Sixteen all new contestants hit Camp Wawanaka in Chris Mclean's outrageous new season. Who will win? Who will end up horribly maimed? Will anything make sense? Throw away your chill pills and tune in to Total Drama OUTRAGE
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Wawanakwa

**Total Drama Outrage**

**Chapter One: Welcome to Wawanakwa**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing related to the Total Drama Series, not one thing.**

"Ah, Camp Wawanakwa," Chris Mclean's voice could be heard as the camera zoomed above the island, showing off the scenery, "The sights, the sounds, the wildlife and the LOSERS!" The aerial view suddenly cut away to reveal Chris standing on the Dock of Shame, his arms outstretched. "That's right, yet another bunch of freakish muta_ ah, I mean campers, will be gracing this summer camp that was totally not left abandoned after some horrible crime took place. All but one of them will end up as losers in a death-defying, spine-chilling, nail-biting contest for ONE MILLION DOLLARS! And even if they win, they'll still be losers because they aren't me. Take a seat and throw away your chill pills because this is, Total Drama Outrage!"

_Dear Mum and Dad, I'm doing my time_

_I know that trying to be free was my only crime_

_You asked me what I future I could see, psychically_

_And there's only one thing the answer could possibly be_

_I want to be outrageous_

_I want to live a life on the run, first to the moon and then the sun_

_Because that's the only way I'll ever be able to have fun_

_I can do anything, only logic in my way_

_The impossible isn't so far away_

_All Because I want to be OUTRAGEOUS_

_I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be Outrageous_

"And now it's time to welcome our campers, arriving on _superbly _maintained boats. Our first lucky camper is the Prince of Paranoia, the Duke of Delusions and the Lord of Lunacy. He gave me about a dozen false names but reliable sources tell me his name is Everett!"

A boat that could have quite easily been mistaken for a derelict hulk lurched up the dock and struck it, causing various bits of encrusted filth and grime to tumble off the hull and fall into the water. Bubbles churned violently around the point of impact with the water, as if something big was thrashing about down there. No one appeared to be on the deck, nor did anyone emerge from the wheelhouse. After several long seconds of silence Chris slapped his forehead in annoyance.

"We lost one already? The budget _so _does not cover search and rescue. Yo! Anyone alive in there?" The door of the wheelhouse finally creaked open and a boy in a bright yellow shirt with the words **Take That Psychics! **printed on it cautiously sidled out. His eyes were concealed by mirrored sunglasses and a blue cap with the brim pulled low shadowed the rest of his face. Tangled curls of dark brown hair were escaping from underneath the cap, leading to a rather bizarre appearance.

"Mclean!" hissed the boy, presumably the mysterious Everett, as he quickly dropped down onto the dock, "where'd you get this boat? I found alien life below deck."

"Chill dude," Chris laughed, "It's just mould or something, the things haven't been cleaned since I bought them off those pirates at a bargain price. Welcome to Camp Wawanakwa, now could you move down the dock before the next contestant arrives? Preferably far, far away from me, so I don't catch crazy."

"Sure, means I'll be closer to land if the Flying Dutchman shows up," agreed Everett as he practically bolted to the far end of the dock. Everyone knows Davey Jones can't set foot on land, well he can but Everett reckoned his next visit was still years from now. "No way am I getting dragged into Davey Jones' Locker today." Unfortunately the possibility that _someone_ would end up in the locker was looking quite high after another of Chris Mclean's 'superbly' maintained boats arrived.

The second boat wasn't covered in filth like Everett's had been, no, it just happened to be riding startlingly low in the water. There appeared to be a gaping hole below the waterline and the boat was rapidly sinking lower and lower as it neared the dock.

"That'll have been the psychotic man-eating sharks," chuckled Chris, "reinforced hulls are way too expensive for my budget. Our next camper, if she makes it to the dock is_"

"How can a shark have a psychiatric illness?" interrupted Everett, shouting from the other end of the dock.

"Probably the result of some heinous animal cruelty," Chris waved his hands dismissively, "you know, leaving them with extreme aggression and burning hatred for mankind." While Chris had been distracted, the boat tipped forward dangerously and its occupant, a girl dressed entirely in black, was forced to leap to the remaining distance to the dock before it sunk. "That's gonna be a marine hazard! Awesome!"

"Are you completely demented?" asked the newly arrived girl, ripping her headphones out of her ears. "I could have drowned."

"Of course, and near-drowning's are great for the ratings, not to mention the fact I just got a set for a shipwreck challenge. Anyway, from just plain weird to wired for sound, it's our second camper, Maria! A fan of music and a student of robotics, welcome to the island!"

"Yeah, thanks for the welcome Chris," she drawled, rolling her grey eyes, "I'll just get out of the blast radius before the next boat explodes or something." Maria strode down the dock without sparing Chris another glance and went to stand beside Everett. Well she at least she stood beside him for all of about two seconds before he shuffled backwards, apparently uncomfortable. She shot the delusional teen a strange look before smirking at him, "nice shirt, sunshine." Everett frowned and looked down at his yellow shirt before glancing at the black one Maria was wearing.

"My name is Everett, and nice shirt, storm cloud," he shot back.

"Nice cap, shame it doesn't cover more of your face."

"Oh yeah," Everett paused as he tried to find something else to comment on, "nice ponytail, shame it doesn't uh…" he trailed off, obviously having no idea where he was going with that. "At least I'm not an android!" Thankfully, Maria was spared trying to figure out what Everett was talking about by the arrival of the third boat, which miraculous didn't appear to be falling apart or layered with a coating of filth. Sure it was covered in crude graffiti but that was nothing compared to the last two.

"See, third time's the charm," bragged Chris, apparently thinking this proved the fleet of boats was superbly maintained. "Arriving in style, our third camper believes the zombie apocalypse is almost upon us and spends most of his time planning for the collapse of human society, welcome Isaac!" The boy looked like he'd come fresh out of boot camp, wearing full camouflage fatigues, a military jacket and combat boots with his blonde hair cropped short and hard look in his blue eyes. Unfortunately the serious look of his appearance was sort of ruined by the lettering on the back of his jacket; **I survived the Zombie Apocalypse and all I got was this lousy jacket.**

"The boat is secure Mclean; I made sure there were no zeds hitching a ride to Wawanakwa with me. Now I've just got to match sure you haven't let the infection onto the island," Isaac suddenly grabbed Chris's arm and stared at it intently, apparently checking for bite marks.

"Whoa dude!" Chris wrenched his arm free, "no one here has zombie virus. They've got plenty of other problems, but they aren't walking dead… yet!"

"Well you named the season Outrage so I figured it had something to do with the Rage Virus," explained Isaac, the suspicious look still in his eyes.

"Whatever, just join your fellow campers over there and try not to murder anyone. A death this early would kill the ratings."

"Ha! But apparently near death is just great for them!" scoffed Maria, still annoyed with the whole sinking boat thing.

"My boat had alien life on it, fresh from Area 51." said Everett, looking quite serious. In an instant Isaac was in front him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

"You been bitten?" he snarled, "delirium, bloodshot eyes, the signs are there."

"Everett's wearing sunglasses," Maria interrupted drily; "I'll give you the delirium point though."

"And just who are you?" demanded Isaac, letting going of Everett and rounding on her, "dressed awfully darkly aren't you? Some sort of government agent? Going to quarantine the island when the outbreak occurs?"

"She's an android code named Maria," explained Everett in a helpful tone, "artificial intelligence and everything." Maria rolled her eyes again, muttering something insulting under her breath before addressing Everett in an exasperated tone.

"You still haven't said why I'm an android."

"Well your voice is kind of flat and emotionless and you have this kind of dead look in your eyes," reasoned Isaac when several moments passed without Everett showing any indication that he was planning to reply in the near future. "So he has a fair point."

"Last time I side with you," Maria pointedly glared at Isaac, "can we please have someone with a bit of sanity arrive next?"

"I don't know about her sanity, but our next camper loves science!" announced Chris as a fourth boat approached the dock. This one didn't have any graffiti on it; instead huge patches of the hull were warped and corroded as if they'd been doused in acid. "Ok, it was _not_ like that when I last saw it. Sandra, what did I tell you about the acid!?"

"Don't use it on the cameras?" guessed a girl with short blonde hair who was unsurprisingly wearing a white lab coat as she disembarked from the boat. "The boat was covered in graffiti so I cleaned it off with some acid, no biggie." She suddenly realised the safety glasses she was wearing were slightly askew and quickly straightened them, smiling at Chris the whole time.

"Don't use it on the cameras _or_ any of my property, everything else is fair game. Join the others Sandra; they're a friendly bunch… not!" Chris laughed as if he'd told a hilarious joke but Sandra didn't look overly impressed.

"I can easily defeat antisocial teenage behaviour with the power of science. Remember, nothing is impossible!"

"Suuuuuure you can, just do it somewhere else, you're hogging my camera time." Chris rudely shoved her down the dock and resumed his posing for the cameras.

"So she's some kind of brainiac," observed Isaac as Sandra approached them, struggling to right herself after Chris' shove. "A zombie survival group always needs a brilliant mind, you want to join up?" he asked her when she reached him. "I'm Isaac, the premier zombie survivalist on Wawanakwa."

"Puhlease, don't you realise how impractical a zombie apocalypse is? You wouldn't even to need to fight them; dogs, insects and carrion birds would be all over them. That's if they could even move after their muscles rotted away."

"You'll see, one day they'll come and none of you will be ready!" raged Isaac, "I can't save any of you," his voice was filled with disgust as if each of them had personally failed him. Meanwhile, Maria nudged Everett and whispered to him.

"So what's she?"

"A genetic experiment," he whispered back, "she was grown in a test tube."

"Genetic experiments!" Sandra suddenly bounded up to them, "I love them, I can't wait to study some of the seriously mutated animals on this island. Who are you two?" she added at the end, like expressing your interest in genetic experiments was the perfect way to greet someone.

"I'm Maria, nice to meet you," Sandra wasn't the beacon of sanity Maria had been hoping for but a love for science was less obtrusive than paranoid delusions and zombie survivalist talk.

"She's an android by the way, she forgets to tell people," added Everett, not even bothering to introduce himself first.

"And you're completely freaking delusional Everett," Maria shot back, "I'm not an android!"

"Ooooh he's delusional?" asked Sandra excitedly, "your brain must look really warped from the effects of those unbalanced chemicals, I should study it sometime. Either that or capture a mutant, that'd be cool too."

"I'm sure your fellow campers won't mind lending their bodies to science," cracked Chris, "oh boy I am on fire today. Speaking of fire, our fifth contestant is consumed by burning rage and has a love for destruction! Say hello to Matthew!" There was an awkward silence as no boat appeared to be arriving and Chris gestured out to the empty sea. "Or don't, he might be dead, ha!"

"Uh Chris, I think the boat really did sink this time," suggested Maria, "far out to sea, not right by the dock like mine did."

"You'd be right Maria; I deliberately sunk his boat so he'd have to swim the rest of the way. Should make him pretty angry don't you think?" At that moment, a gripping hand appeared at the end of the dock, followed by another as the boy managed to pull his head into view. His face was entirely covered by a red hood and his eyes seemed to blaze out of the darkness. With an enraged snarl he managed to heave himself up onto the dock, revealing his outfit to be a sopping wet red hoodie as opposed to some sort of cultist robes.

"You're dead Mclean!" he spat, pulling himself upright, "nobody makes me swim." A cloud of vapour was rising from Matthew's drenched clothes, giving him the appearance of steaming in rage.

"Evidently I do. Tough luck bro."

"Tough luck!? You are dead meat, chopped liver, diced ham, sliced salami!"

"Nuh uh, not unless you want to miss out on ONE MILLION DOLLARS!" The mention of the prize money was enough to curb Matthew's oncoming murderous onslaught, though judging by his clenched fists and gritted teeth, only barely at that.

"Fine Mclean," he shoved past the host and stalked down the dock, "don't think I'll forget this though." Death threats over with, Matthew directed his furious gaze onto his fellow contestants. "What are you looking at? Never seen a berserker before?"

"Nope," said Sandra brightly, "it's said that berserkers would totally lose control and retain no memory of the battle. You clearly didn't go berserk, angry maybe, but not berserk."

"I HATE Logic and Reason!" roared Matthew with sudden irrational rage as he waved his hands around dramatically. Everett stumbled backwards as if he'd been physically struck, Maria just about jumped out of her skin, Isaac let out a string of curses and Sandra clapped her hands over her ears. A long silence followed his outburst as the four other campers stared at him reproachfully.

"You've got some problems man," muttered Isaac, "but you'd make a great distraction if zeds started swarming, want to join my survival group?"

"Sure!" Matthew's rage was suddenly replaced with enthusiasm, "can I randomly betray the other members by throwing them into a horde of zombies while I make my escape?"

"Uh, it's sort of your job to get thrown to the zombies, but if you want to nominate another member, that's fine too."

"Oh yeah, joining his group sounds like a _great_ idea," interrupted Maria, "I'd totally sign up if I were you."

"Nobody tells me what to do!" snapped Matthew, completely missing her sarcasm. He folded his arms stubbornly and turned his back on her. Further arguing or recruiting for zombie survival groups was interrupted as Everett suddenly ducked, covering his eyes. The approach of the sixth boat had prompted this reaction from him, seeing as rather than being filthy or vandalised it was so sparkling clean it was blinding to look directly at in the sunlight. Chris had somehow managed to don a pair of designer sunglasses without ceasing his posing and still able to watch the boat with his trademark grin in place.

"Arriving on the flagship of Wawanakwa's Flotilla of Marine Mastery is our sixth camper, the fun-loving Heidi! Oh and as a side note, Chris McLean Heavy Duty Sunglasses are for sale in a store near you! Rendering the wearer almost totally blind they are great for use in staring at the sun or in the approach of an apocalyptic solar flare, buy now or miss out!"

Heidi gracefully hopped off her boat onto the dock before flipping her bright red hair and shooting a stunning smile over at her fellow campers. Her smile seemed impossibly large and seemed to give off a blinding sparkle that forced the group assembled at the end of the dock to look away. Chris who was practically blind in his heavy duty sunglasses was looking at a spot roughly to her left as he welcomed her to the island.

"Welcome to Camp Wawa_" a member of the camera crew hissed an instruction to Chris and he frowned, ripping his sunglasses off and turning to look in Heidi's actual direction. "Nakwa Heidi," he continued as if nothing had happened. "The other campers would love to meet you, but first, what's with the white ribbon in your hair? Planning to strangle the other contestants with it?"

"Only if they ask for it," laughed Heidi, "surely your ratings will handle one less murderous rampage?"

"I'm legally obliged to say that I do not condone any murderous rampages taking place on my show, no matter how much of a ratings boost that would be. Anyway, time to join your competitors before our next contestant shows up." Heidi sauntered down the dock, her hips swaying as she walked. Isaac shook himself out of a stupor and eagerly stepped forward to greet her.

"You can join my zombie survival group," he offered hopefully, "we're an elite unit of survivors," he added, ignoring the fact that he group so far consisted of himself and the self-proclaimed berserker Matthew. Heidi just shook her head playfully.

"That doesn't sound like much fun does it?" she asked, her green eyes wide open, "I'd rather go to a party to be honest."

"Hey!" protested Maria, punching Isaac's arm, "how come I didn't get an invite to your little group Isaac?"

"It's against my code to work with androids, no matter how useful they are. You can never trust a machine. My stupid computer keeps deleting all my zombie survival files every time I turn my back on it."

"I. Am. Not. An. Android," Maria grabbed Everett by his ear and dragged him forward from where he'd been skulking at the back of the group. "Ok Everett, tell him you were kidding about the android stuff now!"

"Are you mad?" demanded Everett, "do you want the fire spirit to incinerate me!" he pointed at Heidi who was now supposedly a fire spirit according to him. Whether Everett believed all redheads were fire spirits or just Heidi in particular was left unsaid.

"Fire spirit?" Heidi beamed at him, "that's cute."

"Um, I don't think that was meant to be cute," commented Sandra. "I mean you can say someone has a fiery spirit but referring to them as a perpetually combusting sentient being isn't supposed to be cute."

"Nothing is meant to be cute, this whole world is nothing but a wasteland of savage rage," mused Matthew, "Didn't you people learn that in school?"

"I studied robotics," answered Maria, "so I was learning things a little more serious than depressing philosophy."

"Robotics?" muttered Everett, "figures, machines building machines." Thankfully, Chris announcing the arrival of a seventh boat was enough to delay whatever rage Maria was about to unleash on Everett over the whole android thing.

"Our seventh camper has a reputation for laziness but bills himself as the greatest genius to have ever lived on the earth; I'll let you decide for yourselves because here's Larry!" Like the first boat to arrive, this one was encrusted in filth; unfortunately its passenger didn't look much better. Standing from where he had been lying on the deck, Larry revealed himself to have greasy long blonde hair hanging unkemptly down to his shoulders and a patchy beard spotting his cheeks. His clothes were ragged and holey but he appeared wholly unconcerned with his appearance, despite appearing in front of the cameras. He gave a lazy wave in response to the disgusted stares he was receiving from many of the campers and strolled casually up to Chris before lifting his hand for a high five.

"Yo Cleanster, I've nothing but respect for the cushy job you've landed, gimme five!"

"Sorry dude, I don't want to touch you, and besides my job is not cushy, do you know how hard it is to think up such brilliant challenges?"

"Nah just read them off one of those lists on the internet, that's way easier. Or even better, get someone else to do it! See, this is why they call me a genius."

"Yeaaaaah, I'm sure they do, could you go over to stand with the others so you can talk to real people instead of the ones in your head? That'd be great."

"If you say so Cleanster, but you sent my stuff ahead to the island so I don't have my Segway. Guess I'll have to walk, what a waste of effort." Larry shook his head in disappointment and resumed his casual stroll down the dock, determined not to tire himself in the slightest. Unfortunately for him, he chose to greet Matthew first when he reached the group, which never ends well.

"Yo Hoodster! Too lazy to pull the hood back down despite the sunny weather? I respect your intellect pal." Once again he raised his hand in anticipation of a high five. Instead, Matthew growled in rage and punched Larry's open palm with enough force to send him stumbling backwards.

"Hoodster? I am Matthew the avatar of rage, not your pal and I wear this hood so my enemies will never see the face of the one who ends them, fear the unknown!" He didn't notice Maria chuckling behind him, seriously doubting that he had 'ended' anyone.

"Whatever pal, I like how you didn't even bother to dry your clothes after you washed them," said Larry, commenting on the fat that Matthew was still soaking wet after his dip in the ocean. "Don't know why you bothered to wash them in the first place but I've still got respect for you."

"He just punched you!" shouted Isaac, "are you just gonna take that?" Larry just shrugged carelessly.

"Nah, getting angry takes too much effort. Apathy is all the way to go for minimum stress."

"Yep, real genius material right here," said Sandra, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

"Our eighth arrival is seven foot tall, punches through walls instead of using doors and eats weaklings like all of you for breakfast. That's right, he's a giant and hope for rating's sake that he's violent, it's Donovan."

While not sparkling clean like Heidi's boat had been, Donovan's ride was still in perfect condition and upon seeing him everyone could understand why no one dared give him a subpar boat. He was probably taller than seven foot and he looked as broad as a barn, stretching his sleeveless grey shirt tight against his chest. His arms looked as thick as tree trunks and seemed to be made of pure muscle while unsettling tribal patterns had been shaved into his dark hair. As everyone watched, he ripped a section of the boat railing free and slammed the end down against the dock, using it to vault off the boat, his weight nearly snapping it in half. The whole dock seemed to tremble upon his landing and Chris winced, probably hoping the thing wouldn't fall apart until the rest of the campers had arrived. Donovan hurled the piece of railing into the water and stepped forward to tower over Chris Mclean.

"Dude! Way to make entrance!" said Chris, "are you ready to demolish the other competitors or what!?" Donovan looked down at him ponderously before decisively shaking his head.

"Perhaps they may find themselves in ruins because of my actions, but it is my intention to see them leave this island stronger than when they arrived. I do not hold it against them, but far too many of my opponents will have led comfortable lives of plenty and such an existence is meaningless. Titles must be earned and possessions fought for, beliefs are powerless if they go unchallenged. It is my purpose to challenge them and shake them from complacency." Nobody had been expecting that long speech, Chris least of all. Perhaps this wasn't the enraged giant he was looking for.

"Okaaaaaaaaaay, way too much philosophy there dude, could you just go over there and threaten some people, let the cameras see the fear in their eyes," suggested Chris, moving so he was out of Donovan's shadow.

"I will see who I will face," Donovan agreed solemnly and made his way down the dock. Isaac looked like he was going to leap forward and recruit Donovan as an ace zombie slayer but Everett pushed in front of him, pointing an accusing finger at the approaching boy.

"He's a half giant, his kind have finally emerged from whatever rock they've been hiding under!" Sandra just sighed at this claim, shaking her head.

"Do I really _need _to explain the impracticalities of human-giant crossbreeding to you?" she asked in a mildly threatening tone. Maria took one look at Everett and fearing he was going to say yes plugged her headphones back in.

"Lalalalala, I'm not listening to this," she said in a monotonous chant. Donovan kept walking until he was right in front of Everett, staring down at him.

"You spout lies with such conviction, do you mock me or is your mind truly so clouded?" he asked, there was no anger in his voice, only curiosity.

"If you're going to fight someone, fight me!" shouted Matthew, suddenly charging the giant and swinging his fist. Donovan caught his arm and practically threw Matthew back at the others, causing them to scatter in a panic. Except for Larry of course, movement was far too much work for the lazy teenager.

"Rage is an easy emotion," he warned Matthew, as the boy stumbled about the dock trying to regain his balance. "Constantly calling on it will only leave you weak and drained in the end." The other campers closed ranks once more, though numbers probably wouldn't do much to deter Donovan.

"Well shucks, maybe I've got this whole apathy thing wrong then?" wondered Larry, "nah, it takes too much effort to work myself into a rage."

"Stop antagonising the guy you idiots!" snapped Isaac, "can't you see he'd make a great fighter for my zombie survival group?"

"I don't fear the dead," said Donovan, "but there is no point in fighting them, they will learn nothing from it."

"Someone is a little serious aren't they? I think someone needs to teach you how to relax," advised Heidi, "this obsession with teaching stuff seems kind of unhealthy."

"Funny you should mention unhealthy obsessions because our next camper doesn't even seem to realise that she's a human. I couldn't contact anyone who had her real name so she's just going by Wolf." A dishevelled looking girl with matted mousey brown hair and feral yellow eyes was perched on the railing the ninth boat. She threw her head back and howled up into the sky before launching herself onto the dock, landing on all fours. Rather than attempting to speak to Chris, she just growled at him.

"Ok, I take it back," Heidi said to Donovan, "your problems are nothing compared to whatever the hell she has going on right now."

"I'd tell you to greet your fellow campers but I don't think you know how to speak so uh, just go over there okay," said Chris, making a shooing gesture at her. Wolf dodged around him and loped down the dock towards the other campers.

"Do you think she was really raised in the wild?" wondered Sandra, "the psychological implications would be fascinating!"

"She certainly looks like she just came out of the woods," replied Maria, noticing that there appeared to be some leaves stuck in Wolf's hair.

"Yeah but her clothes all look like they've just been bought," mused Heidi, "shame about her hair though, how's mine?" she grabbed Everett's shoulder and spun him around to face her so she could admire her own reflection in his mirrored sunglasses while he stuttered ineffectually.

"Bah! Caring about your appearance is too much of a hassle," said Larry dismissively, "this girl is clearly a genius in the ways of applying minimum effort to life. I mean look, she hasn't even bothered to stand up straight, you've got to respect that."

"I wish you thought talking was too much effort," muttered Isaac, "the zombie apocalypse is far more important than your mastery of laziness."

"A master of laziness is nothing compared to a master of rage," bragged Matthew, "no one can fly off the handle as easily as I can."

"I have no patience for fools who believe their weakness gives them strength," growled Donovan before turning to where Wolf was crouched, watching them with curious eyes. "Can you stand?" he asked, all harshness gone from his voice. The wild girl nodded and cautiously rose to her feet.

"She's just a werewolf consumed by her bestial side," announced Everett in that usual matter of fact way he would announce complete nonsense. Heidi had apparently grown bored of looking at herself in his sunglasses and he had used this opening to make a nuisance of himself once again. "I've got a book on the subject if anyone wants to borrow it." Wolf just turned to look at him with a baffled expression on her face, neither confirming nor denying her status as a werewolf.

"Be thankful you cannot understand his deranged ravings," said Donovan, "you are stronger for the fact you are not burdened by the flaws imposed by human society."

"Newsflash brainiac," interrupted Sandra, "she probably can't understand you either; stick to simple speech would you?"

"And what's this about humanity being flawed?" asked Isaac, "Human pride!"

"This is so rageworthy, you're all so annoying I can't decide who to attack," fumed Matthew as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists.

"I can predict you won't be attacking Donovan," said Maria, "because that worked out _so_ well for you last time."

"Well I predict that our next camper considers herself to be psychic!" shouted Chris, drawing the campers' attention away from their bizarre conversation and towards the boat approaching the dock. "Did you _foresee_ what I did there? I can also sense that she's called Alice and that's she's here to win ONE MILLION DOLLARS!" The door of wheelhouse swung open and an eerie cloud of smoke billowed out and drifted over to the campers who were assaulted by the rank stench of… Lavenders? A sense of relaxation and drowsiness fell over most of the campers, Donovan of course appeared stoically unaffected and Everett had pinched his nose shut and was holding his breath. Sandra too seemed unaffected; her sense of smell crippled by one too many mad science experiments.

The brief moment of serenity was interrupted by a sudden mechanical roar as a massive fan Chris seemed to have produced from thin air blasted the cloud of smoke clear of the campers. There was a period of relative silence as the campers who had been affected by the incense gradually shook themselves back into reality. In fact the only sound was Everett gasping for breath after spending all that time holding it in his mad plan to protect himself.

"Nice one dudette," complained Chris as Alice jumped down onto the dock, "there's a reason this season is called Total Drama OUTRAGE, people aren't supposed to be feeling peaceful!"

"My sincere apologies, Chris Chance Mclean, I didn't bring any incense that will induce mindless rage. I fear it disrupts my meditations." Alice's voice sounded strangely unearthly and spiritual, like everything she said was part of some grand prophecy. Not only was her voice strange, so was the rest of her appearance, her hair had been dyed dark green and flowers were woven into it. Arcane symbols and mysterious words in foreign languages ran all over the brown robes she had turned up in.

"My middle name isn't Chance, psychic FAIL!" shouted Chris, his sudden outburst making several campers gasp in shock. Alice didn't seem even remotely concerned by this, her eyes were vacant and she seemed to be staring at something in the distance that no one else could see.

"I know, the word just came into my mind right in the middle of saying your name, I suspect it's meaning will become clear soon," Alice assured him, "Now I shall familiarise myself with the psychic energies of my fellow contestants." Alice had a slow measured walk and almost appeared to float down the dock towards where the others were grouped until she reached the silent crowd. "Greetings all, I am psychic," she told them all calmly like that was perfectly normal way to introduce yourself.

"Oh good!" enthused Heidi, "does that mean you can do palm reading?" she asked, offering her palm to Alice.

"Ha! Any fool can read palms," said Larry, "I'll do it right now," he strode over to Heidi and glanced briefly at her palm. "See, you've a got a line here and a line there, that means something is going to happen. I'm a genius!" Alice looked at him with a sort of dispassionate curiosity, similar to way one might glance at an oddly shaped rock.

"You have a brilliant mind," she said, "that is true. Also your favourite colour is purple."

"Nah, having a favourite colour is for people who care about stuff." Donovan suddenly let out a harsh bark of laughter, startling everyone around him. He didn't really look like the sort who laughed a lot.

"Already I begin to doubt you have any real ability," he sneered, "those who pretend to have power only drive themselves further into weakness, even if those around them falsely believe they have strength."

"And you have a great deal of power, don't you? Along with a desire to fix that which you find to be broken," she replied evenly, "I suspect that only two who set foot on this island will be able to match you."

"I'm one of them aren't I?" demanded Matthew, "with enough rage I can overcome any obstacle."

"Your anger will not help you," warned Alice, "nor will his fear," she added, pointing at Everett who had been glaring at her from behind his mirrored sunglasses from the moment she had arrived.

"I'm not afraid of you, telepath!" Everett's voice was suddenly filled with unconcealed fury, "See this yellow shirt? Yellow is the most distracting colour and the most tiring to look at so it'll weaken your powers. Between that and my mirrored sunglasses you'll never be able to get into my head."

"I really don't think I'd even want to," Alice said sadly, matching his fury with what could only be called pity. "You are quite disturbed." Everett appeared disarmed by this, obviously caught off guard by the lack of the psychic onslaught he was expecting.

"Demented as Everett is," interrupted Isaac, "when you're finished insulting him could you tell me when the zombie apocalypse is going to occur?"

"Necromancy is forbidden, no real practitioner of the art has existed in centuries. The dead will not rise on our watch. Curses are still quite popular though," she added as an afterthought.

"Do none of you have even the slightest respect for science?" demanded Sandra, "zombies, psychics and now necromancy? You're all insane if you waste any time with that load of unproven nonsense and superstition."

"You know what Wolf? I think I envy the fact you probably can't understand a word of these idiots are saying, or even what I'm saying for that matter," said Maria. Wolf turned to look at her as she spoke but gave no sign that Maria's words meant anything to her.

"What is this!? We have an arrival schedule here people!" Chris was apparently greatly disturbed by the arrival of the next boat, an old fashioned paddle steamer churning through the water. A member of the camera crew shouted something indistinguishable to which Chris shook his head. "I don't care if he was in a rowboat; he was supposed to arrive now! Ok people, arriving earlier than he was supposed to it's our resident card shark, Chance!"

A sinister looking boy dressed in a fashion eerily reminiscent of an old time gangster in a pinstriped suit and a fedora pulled low over his face jumped down onto the dock. "I don't follow schedules Mclean, makes it too easy for your rivals to get at you."

"What, your rivals in little league poker? Mad at you after you won their whole piggy bank?" cracked Chris, "you won't be a big time gambler unless you win the million dollars, buddy."

"Life's a gamble Mclean, as my fellow competitors are about to realise," Chance reached into his pocket and pulled out a playing card, the ace of diamonds, and handed it to Chris, "my card," was all he said before setting off down the dock. Chris shrugged and threw the card into the water where a severely mutated fish snapped it up seconds later.

"I HATE gamblers!" roared Matthew, proving once again that he was a total lunatic, "I'll give you ten to one odds my fist smashes your stupid face!" Matthew took a run at the new arrival before anyone could stop him.

"You lose," Chance said coldly, stepping aside and stretching out his arm to clothesline the running Matthew, sending his legs flying out from underneath him. Matthew slammed hard into the dock and is his desperation to get back up he managed to roll right off the side of the dock, crashing into the water with a splash. Apparently one swim wasn't enough for the enraged boy. "Now was he an outlier or does anyone else want to have a go?"

"Defeating a fool is no achievement," observed Donovan, "you ooze arrogance and wear pretence as armour against reality. I am not impressed."

"Sorry Chance," said Sandra, "Donovan already trounced Matthew before you arrived and data collected in a great deal of studies confirm that an event is significantly less impressive the second time it occurs. Unless of course the number of times the event occurs is the impressive factor. In order to increase the relative impressiveness of your action you'd have to throw Matthew into the water another couple of times."

"I think he might be dead," mused Heidi, "he hasn't come back up to surface yet has he?"

"Oh I don't think I killed him, he wasn't even wearing concrete shoes," said Chance, seemingly unconcerned by this turn of events. At that moment, a mutant fish, the size of a dolphin and covered in razor sharp spines burst out of the water and hit the dock, with Matthew clinging to its tail fin.

"I HATE fish!" in an instant Matthew was back on his feet and violently shoved the flopping fish off the dock." Life and death struggle with the local aquatic life over, Matthew turned to glare at Chance who had joined the others by this time. "I won't forget that you little punk."

"You will if he hits you over the head with a lead pipe," suggested Isaac, "I would have brought one in my luggage but the baseball bat has a higher knockback score."

"This isn't a video game," Maria rolled her eyes, "besides I don't think amnesia works like that."

"Yeah, the whole thing about amnesia coming from head injuries is a myth, it's actually caused by a government serum with a secret recipe consisting of eleven secret herbs and spices," said Everett seriously.

"Who uses recipes anymore? Everyone knows microwave food takes much less effort," said Larry.

"Don't you still have to read how long you need to heat it for?" asked Heidi.

"Nah, I just nuke it into slush and drink it, saves the energy you'd have spent chewing the stuff."

"Now I'd pay to see that," said Chance, "any of you up for a round of poker? First one to go bust has to drink radioactive sludge."

"Sorry, I've been banned from most card games," explained Alice, "people always accuse me of using my psychic powers to cheat. For example, I know that the card you handed Chris Mclean was the seven of spades."

"Actually, that's not even close to the card I gave Chris, and anyway you don't need psychic powers to cheat at cards, any fool can do it," he paused and looked over to where Wolf was now rolling on her back, randomly barking at nothing. "Except maybe her, I don't think she even knows what cards are by the look of her."

"Unbelievable! Where is that clown with the rowboat? Can this schedule get mauled any worse?" this mysterious rowboat Chris was waiting for still hadn't shown up, instead a yacht with flashing police lights arrived at the dock. "I'd stow that talk about cheating if I were you, or anything else against the rules because the next camper arriving ahead of schedule fancies herself to be a police officer. It's Stacey, future traffic cop!"

"Officer Stacey, thank you very much," barked Stacey as she jumped down onto the dock, "and I was thinking of working with the narcotics squad, maybe violent crime or homicide, I'll figure it out." Though she wasn't part of any official police force, Stacey seemed to have invented her own department and uniform to match. Both the grey cap she was wearing and the black vest over her shirt had WPD, presumably short for Wawanakwa Police Department emblazoned on them in white. The shirt under her vest and the long pants she was wearing were both navy blue in colour and a short brown ponytail extended from out the back of her cap. "I'm going to have to confiscate the million dollars, I have reason to suspect it's the proceeds of crime and therefore forfeit," her green eyes were fixed so intently on Chris Mclean it was impossible to tell whether she was joking or not.

"Nuh uh, you'll have to win this money 'fairly'," Chris chuckled, unable to keep a straight face while saying this, "like all the other contestants. Feel free to try and arrest the other contestants over there though, I'm fairly sure most of them are crimes against nature."

"Very funny, I'll head to interrogate, er, meet them right away," said Stacey, sharply spinning about face to march down the dock.

"Matthew, I would not advise shouting that you hate the police," Alice warned him softly, "I foresee that it would end badly for you."

"Oh yeah?" snarled Matthew, "well I HATE advice!" At the sound of his voice, Stacey sprinted the remaining distance down the dock, pointing accusingly at Matthew.

"Public disturbance! Noise pollution! You're going away for a looooooong time," she announced gleefully. Surprisingly, Donovan, who you would hardly expect to protect anyone, moved to block Stacey's view of Matthew, towering over the wannabe cop with a grim expression on his face. Seemingly undeterred from her quest to bring Matthew to justice for his minor offenses, Stacey tried to dart around Donovan. "Move it ogre, or I'll have you for obstruction of justice."

"You are not justice. You act with authority you do not have and until you earn a position in law enforcement through dedicated training you hold no power over me, the enraged one or anyone else here," he informed her, moving with surprising speed to block her attempt to evade him. Larry who obviously had still not realised that Matthew wasn't the friendly sort clapped him on the back.

"Good job Donovan was there to stop her pal, saved you the effort of resisting arrest." Matthew let out a growl of barely suppressed rage and wrenched himself away from Larry's hand and tried to jump out from behind Donovan.

"I HATE people trying to protect me and I HATE people trying to arrest me! Let me at her!" Donovan tried to block him with an arm but Matthew ducked under it and lunged at Stacey, only to stop dead a few feet away from her as Donovan seized the back of his still wet hoodie and held him in place.

"Something tells me that Donovan would make a great bodyguard," mused Chance, "and he could stop people from accusing me of cheating them out their money."

"You're all a bunch of crooks," Stacey was fuming as she strode away from the struggle between Matthew and Donovan to stand elsewhere, "I can't let any of you win one million dollars for your criminal enterprises."

"Cease your prattling, pretender," ordered Donovan before he released Matthew and shoved him over to Isaac, "keep an eye on him, before he hurts himself again."

"Whatever you say man," agreed Isaac, "I'm not going to argue with you right now." Maria rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue in annoyance at the exchange.

"So glad I arrived before Donovan," she said, "or else I would have received one of his charming comments as well."

"Your time will come, monotonous one," warned Donovan solemnly, "I will find flaws wherever they lurk."

"My. Voice. Is. Not. Monotonous!"

"Actually it is, maybe a deeply rooted psychological problem has afflicted you with flat effect," pondered Sandra.

"Yeah sorry Maria, just not feeling the frustration in your voice," said Heidi apologetically, "have you considered taking acting classes?"

"Ha! She already pretends to act like a human!" interjected Everett, prompting Maria to stomp angrily on his foot. "Hey! Unnecessary."

"On the contrary, violence is a necessity for great ratings!" said Chris cheerfully, a sadistic grin on his face. "Which is why our next camper, who has FINALLY arrived horribly off schedule might I add, is an expert on the subject of violence. In fact, he spends several days a week practicing his brutal techniques and beating down anyone who dares challenge him. Campers, get your neck braces and slings ready because our next contestant is Marshall!"

The rowboat Chris had been complaining about earlier finally came into view, the oars manned by a boy dressed all in white. As the campers watched, the boy dropped the oars and rose to his feet in one smooth motion, despite being on a rocking boat. He tensed like a coiled spring and suddenly he was flipping through the air to land easily on the dock. From the way Chris had described him, the campers had been expecting some kind of monstrous thug but Marshall looked completely normal and perfectly friendly. His white outfit turned out to be a Karate Gi complete with a black belt and his closely cropped hair was trapped between brown and blonde, not really either colour. There was no cruel look in his pale blue eyes; he looked more bored than anything else.

"Psych!" shouted Chris suddenly, lunging at Marshall swinging a wooden plank he seemed to have materialised out of thin air right at him. Without the slightest change in his expression, Marshall pivoted slightly and his foot lashed out like lightning, neatly snapping the plank in two. "See, told you he was good," said Chris smugly, "welcome to the island Marshall, you're not a philosopher are you?" If he was puzzled by the question, the young martial artist didn't show it.

"No, I'm more about action than endlessly pondering things."

"Good! Finally a proper bruiser on this island, go and join the others!" Marshall offered him a polite bow before walking over to the other campers. As one his fellow competitors turned to look at Donovan, waiting for him to make some abrasive comment about the newest arrival. Marshall of course hadn't been there for any of the previous arrivals so he misinterpreted the gesture as a deferral to Donovan and decided he was some sort of leader figure. He approached Donovan and offered him a respectful bow as well.

"Pleased to meet you, the others seem to respect you, or fear you, one of the two."

"I am Donovan, and the others fear the change I embody. You I suspect are not so easily intimidated," replied Donovan. "You wear your strength openly to prevent others from seeing weakness behind it. Know that I will find your faults regardless."

"Anybody not see that coming?" asked Isaac, "because I think we were all expecting that."

"I didn't see that coming," replied Alice in her mystical tone, mistakenly believing Isaac was discussing actually psychically foreseeing the previous conversation. "I'd be surprised if any of you did either."

"So would I," said Sandra, "considering that psychic visions are all a load of hocus pocus. Anyone who claims to have had a psychic vision was either on drugs, mentally ill or a liar."

"All three of those options sound like too much hassle," complained Larry, "in fact psychic visions sound like a hassle as well. I wouldn't bother with them if I were you."

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you aren't involved in martial arts," observed Marshall as he looked at Larry, "or any forms of physical activity."

"I HATE martial arts!" spat Matthew, continuing his running trend of hating pretty much everything people brought up. "My rage allows me to overcome any of your mystic techniques. Fight me! I dare you."

"No," Marshall shook his head, "I will not fight anyone who has not been trained."

"So you'd just stand there and do nothing if I attacked you?" asked Matthew.

"I would defend myself without harming you if it was possible. My life would not be in danger so there would be no need for drastic actions."

"You could fight that Wolf girl then," suggested Chance, "she'd probably try and rip your throat out like a wild animal." Wolf snarled and lunged towards Chance, gnashing her teeth and gesticulating wildly.

"Someone get a zookeeper and some tranquiliser darts," said Stacey, "we have a rabid animal on the loose." Wolf instantly went quiet and sat down peacefully on the dock, staring into the water as if nothing had happened.

"Ok, I'm starting to think she understands more than I thought. I suppose that makes sense, how else would she participate in challenges?" asked Maria.

"Oh you mean like one of those really intelligent trained animals! I taught my parrot song lyrics!" announced Heidi randomly, "How cute is that?" Everett muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'avian spies' but people had generally stopped paying attention to his ramblings by this point so he went unchallenged.

"Speaking of not-so-intelligent trained animals the next happy camper joining you is a painter and a lightning fast sketch artist with a photographic memory. You can see some of her work right there," said Chris as he pointed at the fourteenth boat arriving. As opposed to the crude graffiti that had covered some of the other boats, the hull of this boat had been painted to depict a vibrant and unearthly landscape with silver mountains and a purple sky. "Welcome our next camper, Lauren!" A girl dressed in paint-stained white painter's overalls and wearing a black beret dropped down onto the dock and offered Chris a bright grin.

"Uh, Lauren, you've got something stuck behind your ear," pointed out Chris. Lauren had a pencil propped behind one ear. "Just thought you might want to know."

"It's meant to be there," she said casually, "so I always have a pencil ready for sketching if I come across a good scene."

"One, I thought you had a photographic memory and two, have you heard of pockets?"

"Yeah but a scene always translates better if it's fresh you know? And pockets are for chumps."

"Suuuuuure, feel free to join the others, like now." Rather than leaving immediately she paused to stare at her fellow competitors before making the same unfortunate decision Larry had and approaching Matthew first. Apparently the whole dripping wet hoodie thing and the eyes blazing with fury made people think he was really approachable or something.

"Hey can I sketch you?" she asked, "you look sort of like the Grim Reaper's annoying little brother if you know what I mean." At first Matthew looked flattered by the Grim Reaper part but his expression quickly switched to rage when the annoying little brother thing sunk in.

"I HATE_" he was suddenly cut off by Isaac clapping a hand over his mouth and forcibly pulling him away from Lauren.

"It's handled Donovan!" Isaac shouted hastily, "I was watching him the whole time, honest!" Of course he'd actually been distracted by zombie daydreams as usual, hence why he had done nothing when Matthew confronted Marshall.

"I feel as though I've missed something rather important," said Lauren in a bemused tone, watching as Matthew was dragged further away.

"Nah, Isaac just thought Donovan would kill him for letting Matthew act like an idiot again," explained Larry, not that it made much sense to someone who had just arrived. "Happens every five minutes around here."

"Mostly correct," agreed Sandra, "Matthew's behaviour varies slightly each time, the thing he hates is different for starters and he attacks some people and not others."

"Ah, so he's less of the Grim Reaper and more like one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse," Lauren said sagely, continuing the tradition of not making a shred of sense.

"War most likely," suggested Chance.

"Either that or Pestilence," agreed Stacey. Meanwhile Lauren had decided to find someone else to sketch who was both interesting and considerably less aggressive than Matthew. With her green hair and brown robes, Alice was an obvious choice so Lauren bounded over to her.

"Can I sketch you then?" she asked hopefully.

"You could but in the end you'd decide that you didn't like how the picture turned out and refuse to show it to me," predicted Alice, "I'm a psychic by the way." Maria just rolled her eyes at this.

"Not to mention the fact she doesn't have a sketchpad or even a scrap of paper, I think that might be a more pressing concern in the case of this hypothetical bad picture."

"Then she shall use our flesh as a canvas, and our blood as ink," intoned Everett in a dramatically deep voice. You could almost see ominous storm clouds hovering over him.

"Ok that was more than a little morbid Everett, you and I really need to have a talk about lightening up a little," said Heidi, "I mean we've already got Donovan to act all serious for us."

"And besides, I didn't mean right now, I'll get my sketchpad back when we collect our luggage," explained Lauren.

"Don't be too certain you will find your luggage undisturbed" warned Donovan, "This is a dangerous place." If Wolf thought this was something to be concerned about, she didn't show it, merely opting to run circles around Donovan while happily barking.

"It's alright for you," Chance said sourly, "I'll bet you don't even have luggage. It's a gamble for the rest of us."

"Indeed it is, so it's quite lucky our next camper is also a gambler, and a ninja, and a pirate, and a special ops commando, and a computer wizard. At least that's what he said in his audition .Anyway; welcome our next contestant, Billy!" Bill had apparently had the same art idea as Lauren but his execution was a little less elegant. Instead of a surreal landscape he'd gone with a massive blue number one. On the deck stood a boy who seemed to have been extremely indecisive when selecting his outfit. He was wearing an army helmet over his hair, had an eye patch over one eye and a black bandana covering the lover half of his face. He wore a military jacket like Isaac's over a black shirt with the words **IT Ninja** written on it and topped the ensemble off with traditional Kung Fu trousers that billowed out around his legs and he leapt down onto the docks.

"I thank you for your accurate introduction Chris Mclean," said Billy as he swept off his helmet, "but they call me Honest Billy because I've never told a lie in my life. Can you redo my intro with my real name?"

"Yeeaaaaaaah how about no? What have I told you people about hogging my camera time?"

"What!?" Billy looked highly offended by the suggestion that he would hog camera time, "why I've never hogged a camera in my life!" he paused to stare directly into the camera, "Speaking of my life, let me tell you about the time I saved the president of Atlantis from an oil spill using only a rubber duck."

"Save it for the confessional cam dude," complained Chris, "we don't have all day here."

"Ok then, but make sure you contact my agent before you air any of my life story, I'll be expecting royalty payments." Billy swept his helmet back on before dropping down to lie flat on the deck and starting to commando crawl his way towards the others.

"Uh, he does know we can still see him even if he crawls right?" asked Maria, concerned that yet more crazy had been dumped onto the shores of Wawanakwa.

"Perhaps he is more focused on concealing his psychic energy?" wondered Alice, "I can barely sense his approach."

"Hmm, would you say psychic energy tastes like a sugar-coated rainbow or a chocolate dream cloud? I have to get the taste right before I can visualise it properly," explained Lauren.

"Ok I don't even know where to start in explaining how scientifically absurd everything that came out of your mouth just was," said Sandra.

"Then don't bother," advised Larry, "save yourself the effort." Billy's ridiculous crawl was cut short as Donovan strode over to block him. There was obviously only so much nonsense the giant was willing to see before he started tearing into people. Billy scrabbled backwards and clumsily pulled himself back upright. Another person might have realised that this might be a good time to stop acting like an idiot but Billy apparently didn't figure this out.

"Now don't you look familiar? I think I took out twelve thugs just like you in a street fight the other night. I don't like to mention it though, since I was armed with a toothpick at the time so they didn't really stand a chance."

"You cling pathetically to blatant lies. You believe stacking enough false titles before your name makes you something. Strip away the lies and you are nothing, achieve something instead of merely pretending to have achieved it."

"Back up there big guy, I have a doctorate in psychology and everything you just said screams early psychosis to me. I can get you help but_"

"Pathetic," snarled Donovan, cutting him off before turning his back on Billy and walking back to join the others.

"Tough luck, there was a high probability that Donovan was going to do that," said Chance, "in fact it's almost a certainty that you'll run into someone who is bizarre or unfriendly upon arrival on this island."

"Yeah don't worry about it," agreed Isaac, "you can always join my zombie survival group. Have you ever played Mutant Cyborg Zombie Apocalyptic Smackdown before?"

"Played it?" Billy had quickly bounced back from Donovan's verbal assault and moved over to join Isaac, "I'm the rank one player! Hell I practically developed the game." Isaac's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"I don't believe it, you're 'IAMBECOMEDEATH'? I thought he was from Sweden!"

"Nah, that's just a story I tell my fans so they can't harass me as easily you know?" Isaac and Billy instantly lapsed into a nigh incomprehensive conversation about zombies, building upgrades and best team builds from which nothing short of the zombie apocalypse could disturb them.

"Please tell me that no one is stupid enough to believe a word this guy says? If he ever testified in court I'd have him for perjury quick smart," threatened Stacey, talking to no one in particular.

"I have extreme doubts that Wawanakwa Police Department actually exists you know," said Marshall, "Just something you might want to keep in mind before you threaten to arrest people."

"Oh don't worry about it," Heidi assured him, "she's been doing that since she arrived and pretty much accused all of us being criminals, it's sort of a habit of hers."

"It's because you _are_ all criminals!" fumed Stacey, "I mean look how shifty he is!" she pointed at Everett who had been periodically spinning around to make sure no one was sneaking up on him for the last few minutes.

"I'm not a shape shifter, if that's what you're getting at," was all Everett said, evidently utterly failing to understand what shifty meant.

"Ha, and people say _I_ misinterpret things people say," scoffed Matthew. Unfortunately his attempt to appear superior was slightly ruined when Wolf looked in his general direction and barked. "You want to fight me!? I don't care if you're half wolf, I'm ALL rage."

"Ugh, kill me now," groaned Maria, "Can this get any worse?"

"Well I'm glad you asked, Maria, because the answer is YES! We have one last arrival and then the real fun starts!" said Chris, his tone leaving no doubts that he'd be the only one who found things even remotely amusing. "Our last camper claims to have a noble heritage stretching back over a dozen generations and is probably going to make the rest of you look like slobs. Not that it would be very hard. "Welcome our sixteenth and final contestant for this season, Lady Cynthia!" While most of the campers had arrived in Yachts in various states of repair, the vessel that arrived next was easily a cruise ship. A broad boarding ramp extended from the side of the ship and a girl with streaming blonde hair dressed in a three-piece suit complete with top hat, silver handled cane and a gold pocket watch emerged and elegantly made her way down to the dock.

"Please, Mister Mclean, just call me Cynthia. I would prefer my fellow competitors were not intimidated by my title if that is possible."

"Fine!" snapped Chris rudely, "first I get Billy whinging I'm not giving his full title and you don't even want yours. Go join the others so they can make stupid comments for the next couple of minutes then I'll get this show on the road."

"If you say so Mister Mclean, I shall do my best not to add to the communal level of ignorance during this time period." Cynthia departed down the dock, her cane tapping rhythmically ahead of her with clockwork timing. Even Wolf looked impressed by her appearance and demeanour, ceasing her barking and running about to stare at the approaching girl. Of course, the exception to practically every rule, Donovan was unimpressed, folding his arms dismissively.

"What good is a title one is simply born with?" he asked, "Why afford someone a higher station due to mere coincidence? Society is crippled by behaviour like this."

"Oh totally," drawled Maria, "_That's _the main problem with society these days. What, do you think people should be classed based on how good they are at looking down on things?"

"You mean because he's so tall?" asked Heidi, adding yet another occurrence of missing the point to a long list.

"Tell me about it," agreed Everett, "I swear he's half giant."

"We've gone over this Everett," warned Sandra, "human/giant crossbreeding is extremely impractical."

"I don't think so, I mean you just have to be imaginative and it all makes sense," mused Lauren as she stared blankly into the sky.

"Imagination is for tryhards, real intellectuals just nick other people's ideas and say them better," said Larry, offering up his rather depressing view on the creative process. Stacey only paid attention to the word nick and immediately assumed Larry was planning a robbery.

"Can you criminals get any more blatant?" she asked in disbelief, "planning a robbery right in front of me!"

"Ah yes, I foresee there will be robbery on this island, causing great ripples in the pond of life," said Alice.

"Robes and flowers in your hair, how quaint, are you a witch my dear?" despite the tapping of her cane, Cynthia still startled the small group with her sudden appearance.

"No, I'm just psychic, just like you are really a world class chef in disguise."

"You seem to have mistaken me for someone else, I'm afraid I don't do much cooking myself, sorry about that."

"I HATE witches!" now that Isaac was no longer keeping an eye on Matthew, the self-styled berserker was back to his old tricks. He attempted to charge Alice but failed miserably when Marshall grabbed him and spun him about to face another direction, effectively killing his momentum.

"Harmless and yet effective," observed Marshall, "use your enemy's strength against them."

"Oh dear, is that boy in the red hood quite alright?" asked Cynthia, "He seems rather disturbed."

"He'll be fine, just some anger management problems," said Chance, "he loses his cool as easily as he breathes."

"Time's up victims!" announced Chris, "all sixteen of you have arrived safely on the island," he ignored the pointed glares both Matthew and Maria shot at him. "Now if you'd all pay attention…" he trailed off as Isaac and Billy continued to ignore him, still talking about zombies. Chris calmly pulled out a megaphone, "PAY ATTENTION!" Isaac and Billy were finally snapped out of their zombie induced stupor and turned to look at Chris. "Thank you! You'll be glad to know that before team assignments or the first challenge, you'll be enjoying a gourmet lunch prepared by Chef in the mess hall," Chris paused to avoid being drowned out in the chorus of groans and complaints before continuing, "The confessional cam is up and running if you feel the need to make use of it before or during lunch. That's all folks, get outta here!" With varying degrees of reluctance, the campers peeled off to approach the mess hall, all too aware of the culinary horrors waiting for them within.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Matthew: I have one word to say to the audience; RAGE.**

**Larry: Why am I still walking? Where's the Cleanster hidden my Segway? So many questions, too much effort to find the answers.**

**Lauren: Does a camera have an opinion of the events it records? I've always wondered if they're judging me.**

**Heidi: Guess what, you know that karate guy? Well he's a Marshall Artist! **Heidi laughs hysterically, **I am just too funny.**

**Isaac: It's good to get off the mainland, and there are some good recruits here even if I have to put up with weirdoes. **

**Sandra: Hopefully no one believes Alice is actually a psychic, have you seen how she pretty much failed every time she predicted something. No one should trust such unreliable data.**

**Everett: I don't have anything to say, I just want to make sure someone else eats before I do in case the food is laced with truth serum or amnesia juice. You can never be too careful.**

**Billy: ** in the middle of one of his rants… **then the president said, 'sure Honest Billy, you can have the key to Area 51's top secret warehouse…**

**Wolf: **Stares at the camera for several seconds without making a sound before winking.

* * *

Chris was alone on the dock once more, an all too familiar sadistic grin on his face as he anticipated the upcoming events. "Will anyone die of food poisoning? Will anyone get there stuff back? How will the teams be decided? Find out all that and more next time on Total Drama OUTRAGE!"


	2. Chapter 2: Belongings Bedlam

**Total Drama Outrage**

**Chapter 2: Belongings Bedlam**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing related to the Total Drama Series, not one thing.**

"Now listen up maggots, the mess hall is my domain and you _will_ follow my rules," the sixteen unlucky campers had the dubious honour of listening to Chef ranting before serving their meals. On one hand, it delayed the gastronomic assault on their stomachs but on the other, who really wants to listen to Chef? "There will be three meals a day, ONLY when the challenge schedule permits it. There will be no brunch, no morning tea, no afternoon tea, no dessert and no midnight snacks. I do not take special requests; you will eat what I serve when I serve it. You will collect a tray containing a plate and cutlery and then form an _orderly_ line to the service counter. Is all of that clear to you bootlickers?"

"Yes Chef!" chorused the assembled campers, well apart from some obvious exceptions like Matthew who shouted out something else entirely that can't be repeated here.

"Then get to it you no good slackers!" Everyone had no trouble collecting their trays but when it came to actually lining up, there was no particular rush to get there first. Donovan, who was apparently unconcerned by the prospect of severe food poisoning, shot the group a scornful look before striding up to the service counter to be first in line. Chef slopped a blob of what looked like green jelly stuffed with chunks of burnt toast on his plate. When Donovan didn't immediately move to take a seat, Chef pointedly looked him up and down. "You waiting for a bigger serving lard bucket?"

"No, it appears that you have mistakenly served me something that is not an edible form of sustenance," said Donovan.

"You got a problem with my mother's recipe maggot!?" demanded Chef, "clear out double time or I'll haul you into the brig!" Donovan wandered off to sit in the far corner of the mess hall while Marshall moved up to take his place.

"I'm fairly sure the brig is a naval term," he said, "I wasn't aware there was a battleship stationed off this island." Chef practically threw the blob of 'Jelly ala Burnt Toast' onto Marshall's plate from a distance.

"There'll be a battleship stationed on your head in a minute boy; I've been fighting since before you were born."

"A very long time before I was born by the looks of it," quipped Marshall as he easily ducked under Chef's swinging ladle and darted away to join Donovan in the far corner of the room. Alice was up next to receive her thoroughly bizarre meal but she didn't make it five paces towards a dining table before Wolf darted out of nowhere and snatched the tray from her before running outside with a victorious howl. Alice took a step back as though to re-join the line with a new tray but Chef stopped her dead with a glare.

"No seconds witch-girl, out of the line," he growled. Alice didn't looked overly put off by the prospect of missing her meal and merely smiled at Chef.

"No matter, I foresaw that the meal would give me a terrible stomach ache if I consumed it anyway," she said before resuming her previous course towards the closest table.

"That was theft and you know it!" whether Stacey had been next in line or she had cut in there just to harass Chef, she was extremely unhappy about Wolf's behaviour. "Aren't you going to something about it?"

"Yes, I'm going to serve food and you're going to leave."

"But there was a theft!"

"This is my jurisdiction and I say there was no theft! Take your food and go!"

"Fine, but I'll enforce the law if you won't" Stacey stormed away from the counter, took one look at Alice who appeared to be chanting in another language and decided to sit elsewhere. Billy took his opportunity to jump over the service counter and try another one of his ridiculous stories out.

"Sorry Chef, but I'm afraid I outrank you, I'll be dining in the Officer's Mess instead of with the grunts."

"What's that Cyclops? You ain't ever served anywhere!" At this point Chef's aim was so bad from anger that the jelly missed Billy's tray entirely and smacked into his face. Billy stumbled backwards and the jelly bounced away ricocheting off the ceiling and floor several times before it eventually hurtled out the door. Billy appeared to have been blinded in the event and stumbled away from the counter, struggling to wrench his eye patch off so he could see properly. More by luck than ability he managed to find his way to a seat at an empty table and fall into without injuring himself further.

"You know, I think I've seen this meal before, in a nightmare I once had," observed Lauren dreamily as she accepted her plate of jelly and burnt toast. "I couldn't taste it back then, for obvious reasons." Chef didn't even try to formulate a response and instead just pointed at the dining tables. "Oh, do we eat sitting down here? My mistake," she drifted off to take a seat beside Alice who had taken up drawing runes in the thick dust on the table by this point.

"Can you liquefy this?" Larry asked when his turn came around, "eating this in individual pieces with a spoon seems like far too much effort."

"Didn't you hear me scruffy boy!?" Chef was practically roaring, "No special requests in my kitchen! What do you people think this place is? A holiday resort!"

"Pal, I'm always on holiday so technically yes," Larry walked off to join Billy at his usual painfully slow pace, determined to waste as little energy as possible until he retrieved an easier way to travel from his luggage.

"Jelly's nice and all, but I'm fairly sure that this stuff is past its expiry date," said Heidi as she examined the serving Chef had given her. "And why is there even burnt toast in there, it just doesn't make sense to me." Before Chef had a chance to explode in rage or defend his mother's recipe, Everett had given up waiting and darted up to the service counter, slamming his tray down in front of Chef.

"This is legitimately a sample of alien life retrieved from a UFO that crashed into a bread factory!" enthused Everett, "I've got to have some of this for my studies!"

"It ain't your turn Crazy Kid, get back in line!" growled Chef.

"You know what? I think I'll pass on this meal, you can have mine Everett," offered Heidi, seeing any easy way to avoid having to eat the inedible slop Chef had served up. She gave Everett her tray and the two left to join Alice and Lauren, leaving a fuming Chef behind with Everett's abandoned tray. That turned out to be bad luck for Isaac who arrived next, still in full zombie paranoia mode.

"Aggression, enhanced strength, illogical thought processes, you've been bitten haven't you?" demanded Isaac as his food was served. His only reply was Chef hurling the abandoned tray at him at point blank range. Apparently dodging dining implements wasn't part of Isaac's zombie survival training because it crashed right into his chest before clattering loudly to the ground. "I'll take that as a no then man," Isaac beat a hasty retreat to sit beside Billy and immediately resumed his zombie talk that Chris had interrupted earlier.

"I see you've attempted to use the charcoal from the burnt toast to absorb the toxins from the expired jelly? Pointless but at least you tried, good recipe" commented Sandra as she analysed the substance on her plate. Well at least it was a better theory than Everett's, and it had the added bonus of not throwing Chef into a rage for once.

"My mother always was the best cook," said Chef wistfully, a single tear welling up in the corner of his eye. Unfortunately he realised Sandra was still there and flew into a rage. "What are you still doing here!? I got dust in my eye waiting for you to clear out!" At this point, only Chance, Maria, Cynthia and Matthew hadn't collected their meal yet. The two girls moved for the service counter but Chance stopped them before they could get in front Matthew who was randomly kicking a wall at the minute.

"One hundred to one odds we all die of food poisoning if we eat that," he warned them, "let Matthew make a distraction and then we'll slip through without attracting Chef's attention."

"Indeed, the well-dressed gentleman makes a good point, I would rather skip this lunch if I could possibly avoid it," agreed Cynthia in her regal tone.

"Fair enough, but if this all goes horribly wrong it wasn't my idea," warned Maria.

"You slackers hurry up down there! You think I've got all day to serve food to you maggots?" called Chef impatiently. Predictably, Matthew reacted in his usual over-the-top manner and charged at the serving counter.

"So I'm a maggot!? Yeah well I'll hit you so hard you'll FLY away!" he leapt up onto the counter and seized Chef's ladle before it could be swung at him. The jelly fell out of the ladle in the ensuing struggle and landed on the counter, just in time for Matthew to slip in it. His foot flew upwards and kicked Chef's hat right off his head before he crashed down onto the serving counter and rolled onto the floor. Matthew was screaming obscenities from the ground, and Chef was shouting something unintelligible about his hat so it was the perfect opportunity for the last three campers to make a break for the tables without Chef trying to stop them. By the time Matthew had limped over to join the others with one shoe covered in jelly and Chef found his hat, they were all safely seated.

"Weren't there more of you maggots after that hooded freak?" asked Chef, looking confused. When he received no response from the contestants he just shrugged and stalked off back to the kitchen, muttering something about needing a pay rise and 'lunch' continued without him.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Chef: And people say **_**I**_** have anger management problems, Mclean sure picked a bunch of freaks this season. I haven't seen anything like since I was back in the jungle… **Chef's war story cuts out to static.

**Chris:** **That. Was. Awesome! Can we get that kick where Chef's hat went flying in slow motion? That is so going to be** **included in the special edition box set of this season. Can you taste the ratings people?**

* * *

**Donovan's Corner**

If anyone could handle Chef's cooking without complaint it would be Donovan and sure enough while other campers were still working up the courage to even touch their food, Donovan had already finished it. At this point he would have gone back to his stoic contemplation on the flaws on society if he hadn't been distracted by the constant squelching sounds made by Marshall trying to carve up the expired jelly on his plate with a spoon. Donovan was not used to having company and really hadn't wanted anyone near him, hence sitting in the far corner of the room. He shot one of his death glares at Marshall, who calmly returned his gaze without a word. This battle of wills continued for a solid minute before Donovan eventually broke the silence.

"Why are you here? I have no words for you."

"You're clearly the biggest threat here, haven't you heard the saying about keeping your enemies close?"

"My world is not split between friends and enemies, only those who are broken and those who are whole. I will help the weak become strong, there is no enmity involved."

"And if they don't want your help?"

"They will receive it nonetheless, now leave, there is much I must think on."

"Actually, I think I'll stay, this is a nice enough spot to eat lunch," whatever Marshall was up to, he was playing a dangerous game.

"So be it," rumbled Donovan, "but I will remember this," he pointedly turned his back on Marshall so he was facing the wall instead. Marshall made no attempt to resume the conversation and merely continued massacring his lunch as loudly as possible.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Marshall: For all his talk about how weak the rest of us are, Donovan clearly has his own problems, interacting with others being one of them. Maybe I can turn his own philosophy against him so he tries to fix himself instead of forcing his ideology onto the others. What? This game is going to be hard enough without a giant wandering around trying to break people so they become stronger, it's a strategic move.**

* * *

**The Ace Zombie Slayer Association**

Isaac had officially turned the table he was sitting at into the headquarters of The Ace Zombie Slayer Association and was currently conducting its first meeting with his new members, Matthew, Billy and Larry purely because the lazy 'genius' happened to be sitting at the same table and decided that joining was easier than finding a new table. Isaac was dealing with the most important business of assigning roles with the organisation at the moment.

"Now as founder of this group, I'll be taking up the position of Leader as well as well Chief Strategistand Head of Compound Security. Larry, what skills are you bringing to the group?"

"Don't worry about it pal, I've got the driving situation under control. I'll be the guy that sits in the car waiting to drive off while you do all the work."

"Sounds good," actually it didn't but Isaac was already fully prepared to betray every member of the group if the zeds came. "So I'll put you down as a getaway driver, now Matthew, you still fine with being our distraction and frontline combatant?"

"I HATE zombies!" roared Matthew, his capacity for rage not at all damaged by his recent battle with Chef. "I'll hack them and slash them and rip them apart with my bare hands!"

"You could just said 'yes' you know man, no need for all the theatrics," complained Isaac before looking over at the last member of the group. "That leaves you Billy, where do you see yourself in our zombie fighting crew?"

"Now don't get offended here," started Billy, "but I think I'm far more qualified leadership than you are. Not to mention my superior tactical abilities, how about you turn all your titles over to me and you can be a scavenger or something."

"I'm in control of this crew, back down Billy," snarled Isaac, any respect he'd previously held for Billy vanishing instantly. "You can be a scavenger."

"I don't think so, for the good of the group I put this to a vote," Billy paused, daring Isaac to challenge his motion, "Unless of course you're some kind dictator using the zombie apocalypse to enforce your will on others."

"To hell with that! I'm just a survivor man, us against the zeds. Let's take it to a vote for leadership."

"Good, all in favour of Isaac leading, raise your hands," Billy may have been absolutely rubbish at telling believable lies but he knew what he was doing here. Larry was far too lazy to raise his hand and Matthew was lost in one of his rages, repeatedly punching the side of the table for no reason. Therefore it was only Isaac who raised his hand. Billy grinned at him victoriously, "Looks like you only got one vote, I'm fairly sure that's not a majority."

"They haven't even voted for you, there's no way you've won anything like that!"

"They don't need to, you only got one vote and I'm the only other candidate so the remaining votes must be for me. Any problems guys?"

"Whatever pal," muttered Larry before he upended his whole plate of jelly over his mouth, attempting to consume his lunch in one go to save effort.

"I HATE tables!" was all Matthew had to add, which was somehow even less helpful than Larry's comment. It was enough for Billy to assume victory anyway.

"Well there you, tough luck Isaac, how about we make you Head Scavenger as a compromise?" Isaac looked like he was going to lunge across the table and attack Billy for daring to usurp control over his zombie survival group but at the last minute he restrained himself and put on a very forced looking smile.

"Yeah that sounds fine, how about we move onto the next important piece of business? Deciding our defensive fall-back position if a zombie horde hits Wawanakwa?"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Billy: That was too easy, depending on how the teams are arranged controlling this zombie group could give me a fair bit of voting power. This is just a cautionary measure, I'm sure the other campers are far too impressed by my numerous accomplishments to ever try voting me off. Except for that Donovan guy, put he's pretty much Public Enemy Number One right now anyway so there's not much he can do. The million dollars is already mine. Have I told you about the other time I won a million dollars in a high stakes poker gang against the Grim Reaper? It was a dark and stormy night…**

**Isaac: Steal the zombie survival group **_**I**_** created? Billy is going down, I'll see him off this island ASAP but I'll play along for now until I can get rid of him. We better be on the same team so I can vote him off before merge.**

**Matthew: I HATE lunch!**

**Larry: All this zombie stuff sounds like too much hassle, these guys clearly aren't as much of a genius as I am.**

* * *

**Wawanakwa Police Department Criminal Investigation Division**

When Maria, Chance and Cynthia escaped the horrors of Chef's cooking it was almost as though they'd jumped out of the fire and into the frying pan. Finding a seat in the dining area was like navigating a minefield. Obviously they weren't going to set foot near Donovan if they could avoid it; you never knew what the hulking teen was going to do next, only that it was probably bad news for someone. Chance rather quaintly referred to the group that had gathered around Alice in the centre of the room as 'The Crazy Train' and said it would be ill advised to sit in that area. Maria warned them off going anywhere near Isaac's group unless they wanted to get roped into zombie madness so that left joining Stacey or forming their own group and sitting elsewhere. In the end they figured an obsession with law enforcement was nearly as bad as what some of the other campers had going and took seats at Stacey's table.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Stacey said as they sat down around her, her tone was hostile but there was a sense of relief not to have ended up alone in her voice. "A sneak-thief, a gangster and a…" she trailed off as she tried to figure out what kind of criminal Cynthia was.

"A perfectly respectable member of high society?" suggested Cynthia, "a beacon of civility?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of you being an individual who thinks their wealth puts them above the law but whatever," replied Stacey, "what are you all doing here anyway?"

"Wanted to see how the jelly was treating you," lied Chance, noticing only one spoonful appeared to be missing from the plate. "We missed out on our serving after Matthew started a rumble over there."

"I wouldn't know what it tastes like, I only took some for analysis at the lab to check whether this is a health and safety violation or if Chef is actually trying to poison us."

"The lab?" asked Maria, "I don't think there is a lab here; I mean our infirmary is only a tent with a few stretchers for pity's sake."

"Don't worry; I brought a chemical analysis set with my luggage. I'll be able to test it whenever Chris gets around to giving our stuff back."

"Chris practically steals all our belongings and I'm the one that gets called a sneak thief?" complained Maria, "I just can't catch a break can I?"

"Well why else would you be dressed all in black?" reasoned Stacey, "not to mention those headphones a shady hacker in a black van probably uses to feed you information on security systems."

"That's pretty dodgy logic, but at least you haven't accused me of being an android or cybernetically altered in some way." Cynthia's ears perked up at this, being the last to arrive she wasn't overly familiar with Everett's eccentricities.

"Someone accused you of being an android? It wasn't the boy in the red hood, Matthew I think, because I've already said that he seems quite disturbed."

"No it wasn't him, it was that paranoid loony Everett but the less said about him the better," said Maria. Chance produced a deck of cards from one his pockets and set it down on the table loudly.

"Since none of us are eating, anyone up for a game of poker?" he asked hopefully.

"I won't stand for illegal gambling," snapped Stacey, "no money can change hands."

"Fine," agreed Chance, "we'll just say you have to have a spoonful of the jelly and burnt toast surprise if you lose then."

"I'd rather not risk my stomach, isn't there something else?" asked Maria, she'd followed Chance's plan to avoid having to eat lunch and she didn't want to get caught by it now.

"Well you arrived earlier than us didn't you? If you lose you can tell us something about the other campers."

"Fair enough, I'm in."

"Agreed, a pleasant distraction before the challenges begin would be worthwhile," said Cynthia. Stacey still looked suspicious of Chance but she eventually shrugged.

"Sure but I'll be watching the whole time, remember that before you try anything shifty ok? I am the law on Wawanakwa."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Chance: I was hoping to learn something strategic about my opponents from Maria but I pretty much just got informed that pretty much everyone on this island is crazy. It makes me wonder if Chris deliberately chose them for that reason. Kind of makes me a little offended to have been picked you know? I mean I like cards, it's not like I'm running around attacking pieces of furniture, howling like a wolf or calling people androids and giants, geez.**

**Maria: I don't know what's more depressing, how badly I fail at poker or just how easy it was to remember all the crazy things the others have been up to since they arrived. I mean if we'd been here longer I could blame it on cabin fever but people are this bad on the first day? Not looking forward to the rest of season let me tell you that.**

**Stacey: Chance was up to something, I'm sure of it. It might not have been illegal but it was sneaky and I don't like sneaky. **Stacey hears what sounds like footsteps moving behind the confessional. **Hey!? Is someone sneaking around at there, invasion of privacy!**

**Cynthia: Lucky we weren't playing for money, I mean I could have handled it but Chance is a real card shark. It wouldn't be polite to call him out in public but I'm fairly sure he was rigging all those games, no one is **_**that**_** lucky.**

* * *

**The Crazy Train**

"I call it the semi-solid face of wobbly nightmare fuel!" announced Lauren proudly, showing off the face she had managed to create on her plate with jelly.

"Semi-solid?" Sandra winced at the term, "the appropriate term is hydrocolloid."

"A hydrocolloid sounds like some kind of alien though," said Heidi, "I like the face though Lauren, good job using bits of burnt toast for eyes." It was probably a mistake to mention aliens near Everett, both Heidi and Sandra had given him their servings and he had spent the entirety of lunch dissecting the jelly with a spoon trying to find alien organs or something.

"I recognise the flesh samples as though from a globular type alien species," muttered Everett distractedly, "but all the ones I know of have _some_ kind of vital organs and I can't find anything here. Is it possible they were all harvested?"

"I don't sense any energy signature coming off this alien flesh," mused Alice, "The psychic energies must be too foreign to Earth for me to accurately detect."

"Guys, I hate to be a buzzkill, but it's just JELLY!" Sandra shouted the last word, as if her increased volume somehow made her comment more convincing.

"Hey look Everett! A flying saucer!" Heidi laughed and threw her plate across the room where it shattered against the wall over Donovan's head. Thankfully if Donovan was irritated or disturbed by this occurrence he didn't let it show. In fact Everett looked significantly more disturbed and the plate hadn't landed anywhere near him.

"Do you think he protected himself from the plate with telekinesis?" he asked anxiously, "some kind of force field?" Heidi just rolled her eyes.

"Someone needs to force him to have fun maybe. Wonder what he and Marshall are talking about over there though."

"Nothing by the looks of it," Lauren observed dreamily, "should we invite them to join us instead?"

"I foresee Donovan would refuse, and Marshall has another agenda," observed Alice, "oh, and we're about to have an unexpected guest."

"Oh wow, should I give you my life savings now or later?" asked Sandra sarcastically, "as if_" the scientist was cut off by a sudden howl as Wolf burst back into the room and made a beeline for their table at a rapid pace. Before anyone had a chance to realise what she was planning to do, she'd already sprang up onto the table, seized Everett's tray full of mutilated jelly and fled back outside. "Coincidence!" snapped Sandra after several moments of confused silence enveloped the table.

"Well that was exciting," said Lauren, "do you suppose she's going to come back for my plate?"

"I hope not, he seems quite disturbed by the first incident, a second would be catastrophic," observed Alice. Everett was slowly rocking backwards and forwards in seat, muttering something about how he couldn't trust anyone.

"Well looks like I've found the party table!" announced Heidi, "this place is a laugh a minute."

"Arguing about jelly makes for a party?" asked Sandra incredulously. Heidi laughed and shot her a wink.

"Trust me; _all_ the best parties involve jelly."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Heidi: What? Don't they ever serve jelly at the parties you go to? Everyone knows it's a great party food. **Heidi looks at the camera curiously, **what did you think I was talking about?**

**Everett: That crazy werewolf stole my sample of alien life! This is an outrage, I'd call my lawyer but one, I don't have a lawyer and two; I don't think the court handles werewolf related theft of alien artifacts. Normal laws just don't seem to cover this situation you know?**

**Sandra: Why was I sitting with them? Just why!? There was no logic at that table. Alice was still posing as a psychic, Everett seems to think that expired jelly is actually alien flesh; Wolf keeps stealing said expired jelly, Lauren is completely spaced out and Heidi threw a plate at the wall just to mess with Everett! Pure lunacy, that's what this is.**

**Lauren: I wonder why Wolf keeps stealing all that jelly. Do you suppose she's getting ready to hibernate for the winter? Do wolves hibernate, or is that bears? I wish I could hibernate during winter.**

**Alice: I can't get a sense as to whether Everett believed it was alien flesh of his own free will or whether the idea forcibly implanted into his mind. It's very interesting to think about.**

**Donovan: The red-haired one who laughs obnoxiously threw a plate at me. This insult cannot stand. If one wishes to fight me, they should challenge me to a duel, not hurl plates from a distance.**

**Wolf: **There is no sign of jelly anywhere and Wolf just smiles at the camera without a word.

* * *

Lunch, not that many people were eating anyway, was interrupted as Chris' voice blared out from four different intercoms at different corners of the room. Unfortunately they were all out of sync and the words grating, constantly echoing and interrupting each other.

"Attention losers! That means all of you by the way. Report outside the mess hall immediately for the first challenge, oh, and you _really_ don't want to miss out on this one, trust me."

"The hell Mclean?" demanded Maria, "what do you mean challenge we aren't even in teams yet!"

"Don't argue with an intercom," replied Chris, "it makes you look craaaaaaaaaaazy. Now all of you get outside, I don't have all day here."

"He's right," grumbled Chance, "he doesn't have all day, he has all SEASON, what's the rush?"

"He sounds rather eager for us to get out there," worried Cynthia, "do you think he's done something terrible?"

"It's Chris Mclean," snapped Stacey, "of course he's done something terrible, let's get out there before he snaps and does something worse." The Ace Zombie Slayers were first out the door, followed by Marshall who could cross the room remarkably quickly. Stacey, Maria, Chance and Cynthia hurried out after him, leaving only The Crazy Train to drift out after them with Donovan bringing up the rear, as if to make sure no one tried to avoid the challenge. The sixteen campers assembled in a loose formation in front of Chris Mclean who surprisingly didn't have a torture rack or any other sadistic looking equipment set up. Chef was lurking behind him, glaring at the oblivious Matthew.

"You won't need teams for this challenge, feel free to work with or hinder anyone you feel like," said Chris, "just be aware that any enemies you might make here might end up on the same team as you later. Does that answer your question, _Maria_," he glared pointedly at her. "Any more of you budding psychopaths have something to say before I explain the challenge?"

"Yeah, where's my stuff," asked Larry, "all this walking is too much hassle."

"Funny you should ask that Larry," a sadistic grin split Chris' face wide open, "where _is_ your stuff?"

"Oh you have got to be kidding," groaned Marshall.

"I HATE thieves!" roared Matthew

"I suspected such an event would happen," said Donovan, sounding somehow pleased with this occurrence despite the fact his possessions had been taken along with everyone else's.

"I call this challenge, Belongings Bedlam!" Chris told them proudly, "a fitting name considering you lot," cackled Chris.

"Hurry this up Mclean! I need my zombie survival kit back pronto," complained Isaac.

"For someone who doesn't have all day he sure is taking his time," agreed Heidi.

"Can it! I'm the host here remember! As I was saying… Belongings Bedlam is a scavenger hunt over the island of Wawanakwa, searching for your belongings. Each of you will receive a clue leading you wherever your suitcase, backpack, knapsack or steamer trunk etcetera happens to be stashed. Do not return here until you have found your possessions. The order in which you make it back _will_ be significant. Chef, hand out the clues." Chef moved into the crowd of campers holding a bucket of wooden pieces that were supposedly the clues and began handing them out roughly to their respective contestants. Chris clapped cheerfully once all the contestants had their clues. "The challenge starts now! Report back here once you find what you're looking for!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Chris: It really isn't safe for them to leave their belongings out there, anything could happen to them. **Chris laughs maliciously **but who'd tamper with their stuff? I can't think of anyone.**

* * *

Most of the campers bolted off like a shot when Chris started the challenge, whether it was out of eagerness to find their stuff or a desire to get away from Chris and Chef didn't really matter. Larry of course was one of those who took their time, merely strolling away until he was a reasonable distance from the mess hall before casually tossing his clue over his shoulder. Maria who happened to be walking past was forced to duck as the wooden clue sailed over her head.

"What's the big idea Larry!? Don't you sort of need that clue to find your stuff," she asked in annoyance, wondering if anyone else was going to try and kill her today. The sinking boat had been bad enough without random projectiles flying around.

"Nah pal, I don't need that rubbish, decoding clues is_"

"Yeah I know, too much hassle, so you're just going to give up your stuff?"

"As if, don't you know I'm a genius of laziness? Why go and get my luggage, when it can come to me?"

"Don't tell me you believe if you sit here long enough your luggage will just suddenly fall out of the sky?"

"Nah, my trunk is motorised and remote controlled, why carry your luggage when it can carry you instead?" Larry paused to produce a compact cube from one of his pockets. He pressed a button on the top and the device rapidly unfolded, revealing a remote control. He tapped a button labelled, 'return' and then lay down on the grass, apparently satisfied that his luggage would arrive on its own. "Sophisticated path finding as well, motion sensors and all that jazz, should get back here quick smart."

"Did you make that yourself?" Maria asked, impressed in spite of herself, how could a master of laziness pull that off?

"Told you I'm a genius, it's a question of investing a large amount of effort to build something now that will reduce all effort expenditure later." It appeared the only thing that could make Larry put in effort was the prospect of investing less effort in the future.

"Well bully for you, I'm going to be stuck out there looking for hours to find my stuff," Maria huffed in irritation and stalked off in the direction of the beach, which the crude picture on her clue seemed to be depicting. A clue saying that her stuff was, 'somewhere on the beach' was pretty vague, Maria didn't know whether she'd just find it lying around or if she'd have to dig up half the beach. "I hate this show already."

* * *

**The Ace Zombie Slayer Association (Under new management and currently minus Larry)**

The three members of the zombie slayer association who didn't have the luxury of motorised luggage were currently deep in the woods, armed with sticks, 'helping' Billy with his clue. Matthew kept disappearing to attack trees and random wildlife while Isaac was busy trying to sabotage his new arch nemesis at every turn. Billy's clue had shown a picture of a rock but rather than going to near the cliffs or beach Isaac had insisted they would find the rock in the woods. Now his plan was using Larry's absence in attempt to sow dissent against Billy's leadership.

"You know, if I was in charge," started Isaac, "we'd never leave a man behind." Billy just snorted at the idea, as if it was ridiculous to care for teammates.

"As if, everyone knows that minor characters only exist to sacrifice themselves so the hero can go on and save the world. Besides Larry's a liability, he's the kind of guy that doesn't survive the initial outbreak if you ask me. His house probably isn't a fortified mansion like mine is, electric fence and everything."

"You hear that Matthew? He could decide that you're a liability next." Isaac stopped and looked around in confusion when there was no response from Matthew, enraged or otherwise. He appeared to have disappeared again without either of them noticing, only much further away than usual this time since they couldn't hear his cries of rage. "Look, you've lost another one, I don't mean to offend you but this is plainly bad leadership."

"He better be off looking for rocks instead of his own clue, whatever it was."

"I think it was a picture of squirrel," replied Isaac, "though the teeth looked kind of big." At that moment the relative quiet of the forest was shattered by the furious rustling of leaves and cracking of branches, the sound getting closer and closer with each passing second.

"I HATE feral squirrels!" the familiar sound of Matthew raging reached them as he burst out of thicket of trees to join Isaac and Billy in the clearing. He had managed to retrieve his backpack from the feral mutant squirrels, unfortunately a dozen of them were still clinging to him, clawing and biting. Isaac and Billy sprang into action, striking at the squirrels with their sticks but seemed to be hitting Matthew more than anything else. By the time the squirrels finally retreated back to the treetops, Matthew was severely scratched and bruised, bleeding from several small wounds.

"That wouldn't have happened if we'd stuck together," fumed Billy, "we were supposed to find my suitcase first then all three of us could have gone after the squirrels."

"Need. More. Than. Three," gasped Matthew as he tried to regain his breath after his desperate flight from the squirrels.

"Chill man," said Isaac, "we got rid of them."

"There's more, so many more." An ominous chattering sound rang out from the trees around them and as they looked up they could see dozens more rabid squirrels had assembled, staring at them with hateful eyes. "RUN!" The three of them fled helter skelter into the woods, pursued by the forces of bushy-tailed vengeance.

* * *

**The Thousand Foot Cliff**

Heidi was poking around in the grass at the top of the thousand foot cliff, a picture of which was on her clue. The cliff that is, her clue wasn't a picture of grass, though no one would put it past Mclean to provide a clue like that. "How can all my suitcases be hidden up here, I would have seen them by now," Heidi said crossly, talking to herself. "Either this is a bad joke or someone beat me here and stole them."

There was a sudden bark as Wolf announced her arrival, bounding up to Heidi and handing her a clue. "Um, I already have a clue." Wolf shook her head and pointed at herself before repeatedly shrugging. "Oh you don't know what it is?" Wolf nodded in response to this. "Ok, it is a pretty bad picture; if I had to hazard a guess I'd say it's a shark. Or a particularly mean looking dolphin." Wolf only stared at her blankly. "Whoops, um, do you understand this?" Heidi used her hand to make the shape of a fin over her head and circled around Wolf who barked happily and bolted to the edge of the cliff, leaping off before Heidi had a chance to say anything further. There was a long howl followed a splash and then silence once more.

"I'm just that good," bragged Heidi, momentarily forgetting her own search and strolling over to the cliff edge to see if Wolf was getting mauled by sharks or not. Wolf hadn't risen to the surface yet, but Heidi spotted something else, her excessive collection of suitcases piled on a ledge a short distance below the edge. She quickly dropped flat onto her stomach and reached down, grabbing the handle of the closest suitcase and slowly crawling backwards to haul it back up onto the cliff top. Her movement dislodged a loose rock from the edge of the ledge and sent in tumbling down towards the water below. By sheer bad luck, Donovan happened to be in the water below the cliff, diving to retrieve his submerged luggage when the rock crashed down into the water mere inches away from him. He looked up to see Heidi returning to grab her second suitcase and thought this was yet another cowardly attack.

"Another attack in the space of an hour!" he shouted furiously, waving his hands at her. "Come down here and fight honourably!" Up at the top of the cliff, Heidi could see Donovan waving but couldn't hear a word he was saying and mistook it for a friendly gesture.

"Hi Donovan!" she waved back cheerfully, "that's surprisingly friendly of him, I didn't think he liked me very much." As she watched the water below, Wolf re-emerged, a drenched knapsack clutched between her teeth and furious shark swimming after her. The psychotic man-eating shark paused, unable to decide whether to go after the fleeing Wolf or attack Donovan who was still flailing furiously in the water. Donovan suddenly dived beneath the surface, his movement prompting the shark to go after him. Heidi shrugged as they both vanished from sight. "Glad I'm not down there." Yet more indistinguishable cries sounded from behind Heidi and she turned around to see Isaac, Matthew and Billy running towards her. "Well, aren't I popular today?"

"RUN!" Isaac finally shouted with enough volume for Heidi to hear what he was saying, though at this point it was no longer necessary. She could now see the vengeful horde of squirrels pursuing them and realised that it wasn't about to be safe up here for much longer. Still holding the second suitcase she had retrieved, Heidi hurled herself over the side of the cliff, screaming all the way down. Moments later the three zombie slayers were plummeting down after her, squirrels still in pursuit, scurrying down the cliff face.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Chris: Ha! I didn't even have to make the thousand foot cliff part of the challenge; campers are just throwing themselves off it anyway! Those mutant squirrels deserve a pay rise. Nah, who am I kidding, I don't even pay Chef half the time.**

* * *

**The Beach**

Maria had headed down the beach in search of her belongings instead she was confronted by the most the peculiar scene she had ever come across in her life. Wolf, Billy, Donovan, Matthew, Isaac and Heidi were all out in the water, unfortunately so were several psychotic sharks and a legion of enraged mutant squirrels. Donovan hadn't found the time to retrieve his own suitcase during the chaos but luckily Heidi had brought one down with her. He seized it and started thrashing around him the water, using it as a flail in an attempt to beat the sharks off. Meanwhile the crash landing had managed to rip Matthew's backpack open revealing that 'someone' had stuffed it with acorns.

"Ugh, I HATE acorns!" Matthew grabbed a fistful of them and hurled them at the nearest shark. In an instant the squirrels forgot the three boys existed and tried to attack the psychotic sharks instead. Using the ensuing mutant smack down as a diversion, the six teenagers in the water managed to desperately swim back to shore without further incident. An exhausted Billy stumbled upright from the sand and tried to lean against a stray boulder for support but the thing just rolled away, revealing itself to be made of painted cardboard. Underneath its previous location was Billy's luggage, hidden under a rock just like the clue had said.

"YES! My Doctorate in Archaeology finally paid off!" bragged Billy, "I knew there was something off about that rock." Isaac coughed up a mouthful of sea water and began cursing his head off, mostly because of Billy being so lucky. Maria thought he was swearing due to his injuries and ran over to see how bad it was.

"What the hell happened to you guys?" she asked, "you look like you've been savaged by wild animals."

"Because we _were_ savaged by wild animals," snapped Isaac, pulling himself upright and looking over at Matthew and Billy. "Come on guys, just my stuff left to find." The three injured zombie slayers staggered off the beach, to track down their final location, denoted by a picture of a beaver on Isaac's clue card.

"Most of my suitcases are still up the cliff," said Heidi glumly, she only had the one Donovan had used to fight the sharks. She directed a dazzling smile at Donovan, "I'm so tired, could you collect them for me so I can rest down here?" Donovan scowled at her furiously, as if her question was a grave insult to him.

"You lent me a weapon against the razor fins and so I will forgive your transgressions against me for now but do not push your luck." Donovan turned his back on her and swam back out into the water, he still had to retrieve his sunken luggage after all, despite the fact the waters were still shark infested.

"What's his problem?" asked Heidi, "he seemed really friendly before," Maria just stared at her incredulously, wondering how anyone could use 'friendly' and 'Donovan' seriously in the same sentence. "I suppose I'll have to go back up there myself then." Wolf stopped shaking water out of hair and barked happily, pointing at herself before running off back towards the path up the cliff. "Oh that's nice; she didn't have to help just because I explained her clue."

"Isn't it weird that a girl who thinks she's an animal is probably twice as helpful than anyone else on the island? Go figure that one out," mused Maria.

"Speaking of figuring things out, I think I'm really good at this whole clue thing, do you need help with yours?"

"I don't know? Do you want to help me dig up the entire beach because that's the only clue I have."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Maria: **Maria looks exhausted and her clothes are covered in sand. **I. Hate. Chris. Mclean.**

**Chris: Are you kidding me? That was any easy clue, spending hours randomly digging up the beach in the hot sun is positively tame by my standards. Now, the acorns and the feral squirrels, that was a stroke of genius!**

* * *

**Hillside above Grizzly Bear Cave**

For Everett, finding his suitcase wasn't the problem, in fact, it was so little of a problem that he'd stumbled across it quite by accident. It was only a few feet in front of him, resting on the side of an oddly shaped mound of dirt. No, the problem Everett was having with this challenge was his paranoia, and his tendency to jump to ridiculous conclusions. Upon studying his clue, Everett had decided that it depicted some sort of insectoid alien and had only climbed this hill to get a better view of the sky. Finding his clue on a seemingly ordinary mound of dirt with no aliens in sight left Everett at a loss and he was sure there was a trap here _somewhere_.

After retrieving a sturdy tree branch, Everett was pacing around the mound of dirt, prodding both it and the ground nearby in the hopes of setting something off. "Removing my suitcase must be what sets off the trap," mused Everett, "some kind of pressure pad, or it's covering a beacon that will draw the aliens here to abduct me. Unfortunately while Everett was busy thinking about invaders from the stars, he was unaware of approaching invaders of a far more mundane kind. The 'mound of dirt' was actually and ant mound, housing a colony of extremely aggressive Wawanakwa Razor Ants, many of which were coursing up the tree branch Everett was still casually holding. The paranoid teenager didn't realise anything was wrong until the first wave of ants reached his fingers and began to furiously attack him.

Searing pain surged through Everett's hand and he cried out in shock, flailing his arms wildly before he realised how the ants were getting at him and dropped the stick. It was far too late though, his desperate flailing had only succeeded in flinging ants onto his face where they resumed their painful biting spree. Clawing at his face, a now blinded Everett stumbled forwards, tripped on the discarded tree branch and crashed right into his suitcase. The combined weight of Everett's suitcase and the force with which he struck it smashed right through the ant hill. Swarms of ants erupted from the shattered remains of their home to avenge this grievous insult. If it wasn't for one little fact they might well have eaten him alive. The ant hill had been located at the top of the steep slope above the Grizzly Bear Cave and after smashing through it the suitcase wasn't going to stop. With Everett clinging to it, still covered in ants and shouting something about insectoid assaults, the suitcase raced down the hillside at increasingly high speed.

Meanwhile at the bottom of the hill, a certain grizzly bear was disturbed by the noise of rapidly approaching screaming and emerged from the mouth of his cave to investigate. He never got a chance to turn around before the Everett-Suitcase-Wawanakwa Razor Ant comet racing over the cave roof soared through the air and crashed landed right on the bear's back. Everett was flung clear through the air to land several feet away in a daze, finally free of ants. The suitcase also fell clear of the bear, thudding into the ground where it popped open and another smaller suitcase flew out and landed near the tree line. The ants however had latched onto the unlucky grizzly. Swarmed by frenzied ants and suffering from having a teenager and two sets of luggage smash into his back, the bear gave pained yelp and bounded off into the woods, leaving the cave unguarded.

"Had a feeling I should join you," said Alice, emerging from the trees with Cynthia in tow, "I thought my luggage might just show up in this area," she pointed at the second suitcase that had been released from Everett's case.

"Everett had your belongings?" asked Cynthia, "how peculiar, I wonder why Chris would hide your stuff there. Seems an odd sort of place to hide something, was your clue a picture of Everett?"

"No, my clue is blank; I think Chris was making a joke about a psychic not needing a clue. Either that or he was saying Everett has nothing in his head, one of the two."

"How bizarre, well at least you were right about the bear not being a problem; I can just stroll right into the cave and collect my luggage without having to worry about him anymore."

"Stop playing the kazoo!" shouted Everett randomly, stirring from his daze. "Ugh, what hit me?" he noticed how he was absolutely covered in angry bite marks, "and what bit me?" He hauled himself back upright and looked around furiously for some sort of culprit, "was it Wolf, does she maul people!? Gross!"

"If I had to hazard a guess I'd say you were bitten by a rather large number of ants," suggested Cynthia, "Wolf was never here, and I don't think she bites people either."

"Well if it isn't Richy McRich and the Terrible Telepath, should have known you two would be prowling around up to no good."

"Calm yourself, Alice and I are just taking part in the scavenger hunt like you."

"Indeed," agreed Alice, "I found my belongings mere minutes ago and I was just about to return to Chris, would you like to join me?"

"Oh yeah, because if physical attacks aren't bad enough I'd love to have a psychic digging through my head as well," drawled Everett sarcastically, "you go ahead of me, I don't trust your eyes boring into my mind."

"If you say so," if Alice was offended she didn't show it and simply drifted off amongst the trees, carrying her suitcase with her.

"Excuse me, I really must get on with the challenge," said Cynthia, "good day to you Everett." Cynthia left as well entering the now empty bear cave in order to retrieve her luggage. Everett was left to collect his own fallen luggage and walk off in a pointedly different direction to the way Alice had gone.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Everett: **still covered in bite marks and looks short of breath **I was not lost in the woods, it's called strategically taking an unexpected route to avoid a hostile target. Look it up!**

**Cynthia: Richy McRich? Not the politest of gentlemen is he? Who speaks to a lady like that? I think he meant to shout 'cuckoo' instead of 'kazoo', he's quite mad if you ask me.**

**Alice: Is someone watching this with a name that starts with D? Just had the feeling that seven is your lucky number, sorry to disturb you.**

* * *

**The Dock of Shame**

While many of the campers were having a very violent and painful experience tracking down their belongings, Marshall had ended up with a strangely relaxing task. His clue had been a picture of a fish and what's the best way to find a fish? Apparently not by fishing because Marshall had been sitting on the dock fishing away hours of his life without a single bite, though with some of the aquatic life around Camp Wawanakwa that was probably a good thing. Marshall was using a cruddy old fishing rod and some bait he'd taken from the boathouse. Also from the boat house was the large black case he was using as a seat, after checking no ticking noises were coming from it of course. He might have slowly drifted off to sleep if this had continued for much longer but the silence was soon interrupted by two arrivals. Lauren, looking as though she'd been doused in a river of purple paint and Sandra, covered in mud, had turned up to investigate why Marshall was fishing of all things. They both had retrieved their luggage but Chris obviously hadn't made it easy for them.

"I don't mean to alarm you, but THIS IS A CHALLENGE!" shouted Sandra, "why are you sitting here fishing while I nearly died in a mud pit!"

"Someone was very careless with the paint in the Arts and Crafts building, and they left all those tripwires lying around," said Lauren, sounding relaxed as always.

"My clue was a fish so I'm fishing," Marshall said simply with a shrug, "I don't see the problem here."

"Well there's a little thing about there being no way in hell a FISH could have your luggage, you weren't supposed to take it so literally."

"Ah, but my clue shows a giant fish, so that could totally have eaten my luggage or something," Marshall showed his clue to the girls and Lauren nodded sagely upon seeing it.

"He's right that is clearly picture of a giant fish as opposed to a normal fish. The distinction is obvious."

"Don't encourage him Lauren," snapped Sandra "it's all a load of_" at that moment the fishing line went taught and a frenzy of bubbles burst up to the surface. Marshall heaved upwards and began reeling furiously. "It's just a rock or something," Marshall was still struggling to haul his catch to the surface, sweat running down his face as he exerted all his strength. "Maybe a submerged boulder," tried Sandra. It wasn't any sort of rock; an old fashioned steamer trunk with Chance clinging to it was actually what Marshall had caught. The drenched card shark was hauled onto the dock where he rolled off his trunk, gasping for breath.

"Found my stuff under the dock, it was stuck on something," was all the explanation Chance offered in response to their confused stares.

"Yeah, it got caught on my fishing line," said Marshall, "what did you think was happening?"

"Thought that giant fish I saw down there was trying to kill me, kind of hard to think straight under water you know."

"Great, I knew there was a giant fish hanging around here with my luggage," said Marshall, "you three better get back to the camp ground, some extreme fishing is about to go down here."

"Thieves, imbeciles, bumbling incompetents!" the door of the boathouse slammed open and Stacey stormed out, waving her clue around angrily. "They give me a picture of the boat house and I turn the whole place upside down and there's NOTHING! Is this some kind of sick joke!?"

"Marshall, why does your seat have WPD written on it?" asked Lauren suddenly, with possibly the worst timing ever. The martial artist glanced down at the box he was sitting on and realised far too that it probably belonged to Stacey.

"You! You stole it," raged Stacey, "you'll regret that you little thief, you'll be in jail for the rest of your miserable life!" Chance, Sandra and Lauren scattered and ran back for the finish line as Stacey charged at Marshall and wrenched the black case out from beneath him, sending him tumbling over the side of the dock into the water.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Marshall: **soaked with water **she could have just asked for it back you know, it was an honest mistake. No need to hurl me into the ocean over it. Found the giant fish while I was down there though, so that was a plus, seriously, who feeds a suitcase to a mutant fish anyway?**

**Lauren: Does purple suit me? It's a nice colour.**

**Stacey: **in mid rant… **FIFTY YEARS! See you in court you…** static cut of her off.

**Sandra: Oh Science, why have you abandoned Wawanakwa, and why did you take all the sense with you?**

* * *

**Hours later, In front of the Mess Hall**

"Nice of you losers to finally show up," announced Chris as the final camper made it back to the mess hall with his stuff. "Not impressed by your performance people, not impressed at all. Matthew, nice work stealing those acorns dude, you pretty much wiped out the squirrel population of Camp Wawanakwa with that little stunt, turned them into shark bait."

"What!? I didn't steal those acorns!" raged Matthew, "this is a frame up!"

"Billy and Isaac," continued Chris as if he hadn't heard Matthew, "beating animals with sticks? Not cool dudes, admittedly you did more damage to Matthew than the squirrels but still, not cool."

"Come on Mclean, you know I meant to hit Matthew, I was trying to subdue him in case the squirrels gave him rabies," lied Billy.

"You beat ill people with sticks?" asked Isaac, "that's sick man."

"Heidi, repeatedly trying to kill a fellow camper, I like your style but save it for later in the season ok? We need to build up to that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Heidi, looking confused, "I didn't try to kill anyone." She was oblivious to the glare Donovan was directing at her.

"What about you Everett, proud of destroying that ant colony? Or severely injuring that grizzly bear? Didn't think you were so violent dude."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Grizzly: **is covered in ant bites and wearing a back brace as he holds up a picture of Everett and growls threateningly.

* * *

"And we can't forget Stacey, some officer of the law you turned out to be, vandalising the boat house, assaulting a fellow contestant. However, the despite the damage you've inflicted on property, wildlife and each other, you've all made it back." Chef appeared from the mess hall to join Chris, rolling a trolley holding a widescreen television showing a list of names in front of the campers. The totally accurate order of your arrivals which definitely wasn't compiled by a pack of incompetent interns is shown on this screen, read it and weep campers, read it and weep." Chef trudged off to fetch something else while the campers were left to check the results.

**1. Larry**

**2. Isaac**

**3. Matthew**

**4. Billy**

**5. Wolf**

**6. Alice**

**7. Heidi**

**8. Sandra**

**9. Lauren**

**10. Chance**

**11. Donovan**

**13. Maria**

**14. Cynthia**

**15. Everett**

**16. Marshall**

Marshall didn't look overly put out to have arrived in last place, "The giant fish just weren't biting, took me ages to get my luggage free."

"Excuses, excuses!" said Chris, "luckily this isn't an elimination challenge or you'd be on the chopping block. No, the order in which you arrived, or which our unpaid interns vaguely think you arrived at least, will determine which team you are placed on." Chef reappeared once more, this time holding two flags, one blue and one green. "This season we will have; The Killer Critics," pointed at the blue flag with a picture of stick figure with an angry face pointing a shotgun at a television, "and The Screaming Fans," he pointed at the green flag, this one showing a screaming audience at a concert. Chef unfurled the flags, Killer Critics to Chris' left and Screaming Fans to the right. "All of you who arrived on an odd number, one, three, five etcetera, are now Killer Critics, those of you with even arrival numbers, two, four, six etcetera, are Screaming Fans. Move to stand by your team's flag." The television screen updated to show the new teams, eight members in each.

**Killer Critics**

**Larry**

**Matthew**

**Wolf**

**Heidi**

**Lauren**

**Donovan**

**Maria**

**Everett**

**Screaming Fans**

**Isaac**

**Billy**

**Alice**

**Sandra**

**Chance**

**Stacey**

**Cynthia**

**Marshall**

"Your team flags have been thoughtfully hung over your respective cabins," continued Chris when all contestants had moved into place. "I'm sure you'll remember they are split in two, girl's entrance to the left and boys to the right. Now dinner is waiting for you inside so you can enjoy a 'friendly' meal with your new teammates, now scram!"

* * *

**Mess Hall: Killer Critics Table**

"I will make something clear to you," the Killer Critics had barely taken their seats before Donovan had started up. "For now, we are allies, but do not expect me to forgive weakness or ignore faults. Whether you compete with me or against me, my mission to eradicate the weakness in you remains." He paused to turn his intense gaze onto Heidi, "I will not suffer another attack from you, teammate or not." Heidi nudged Maria who was sitting next to her and whispered;

"Is he talking to me? Because I don't remember trying to kill him."

"He was looking right at you," replied Maria, "I don't know what you did but he's got a problem with you."

"Yo Donmeister!" called Larry, "I'll vote for you to be team leader if I don't have to do anything hard in challenges."

"Your laziness will be your end Larry, I will_"

"I vote for Wolf," interrupted Everett, "because she doesn't give stupid speeches about weakness." Wolf barked approvingly, briefly looking up from the plate of Mystery Meat Chef had served up.

"You're right Ev," agreed Larry, "I change my vote to Wolf because if she can't speak then she can't order me around."

"You wish for a leader who is not a leader? Must you be foolish as well as lazy?" demanded Donovan, "and my speeches are not stupid, they hold great meaning."

"Oh," said Lauren, "do you have a speech on the meaning of life? Because I'm sort of interested in hearing about that."

"We must all find our own meaning," said Donovan, "mine is to eradicate weakness."

"I HATE weakness!" it wasn't surprising that Matthew had unleashed another hateful outburst, that he'd restrained himself until now was the surprise. "And I HATE speeches, El Lobo gets my vote for leadership." Wolf didn't seem to realise that El Lobo referred to her so Maria quickly explained.

"El Lobo means the Wolf, he was voting for you," Wolf grinned and clapped her hands excitedly, increasing Donovan's frustration.

"I have great respect for Wolf but she cannot be a leader, cease this vote immediately," he commanded.

"Can I vote for El Loco too?" asked Heidi, "just because the name sounds cool." Everett's head snapped around to look at her.

"Who're you calling crazy?" he demanded, "You think I see funny lights in the sky? Mistake weather balloons for UFOs?" Lauren stared at him curiously.

"I didn't know ant venom contained hallucinogens, how strange."

"Trust me; he was like that before the ant bites," said Maria, "it doesn't get any better."

"Whatevs pals, Wolf wins the vote, congrats, can I sleep now?" asked Larry.

"You will regret this foolishness," warned Donovan, "who will you vote for next, Heidi's hair ribbon? Matthew's hoodie? Everett's sunglasses? You will get the same result either way."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Heidi: Donovan really needs to take a chill pill; he's so serious all the time. Who cares if Wolf doesn't speak, he shouldn't compare her to an inanimate object. Though my hair ribbon is pretty awesome, I will say.**

**Matthew: I hate everything, but I hate Wolf slightly less than Donovan so she got my vote.**

**Lauren: I made Wolf a captain's hat out of a napkin, all leaders need a hat, it's a perk of the job.**

**Wolf: **smiling proudly wearing her napkin sailor hat.

* * *

**Mess Hall: Screaming Fans Table**

"Now it may be fairly obvious, but in light of my extensive training and experience in the field of leadership, I'm the best choice as leader of this team," said Billy, full of himself as usual. "Any challenges to my appointment?"

"I've got one," said Marshall, "I find you unsuitable for leadership on the grounds that ninety-nine point nine percent of the stuff you say is complete and utter bullshit."

"I wouldn't put it quite so harshly," said Cynthia, "but you do have a tendency to bend the truth Billy. We need an honest leader."

"I've never told a lie in my life, this is a conspiracy against me," Billy whirled around to glare at Isaac, "you turned them against in a rage over how I took control of your group." Despite the fact Isaac couldn't have managed that without a time machine; Billy was determined to blame him.

"What's this about a group?" asked Sandra, "have you been making alliances already Billy?"

"A criminal organisation is more like it," accused Stacey, "I always knew you were shady."

"He's shady alright," agreed Isaac, "but the group is just about killing zo_"

"Murder!?" exclaimed Stacey, "You're all hired killers!?"

"Oh yes, they have killed thousands," said Alice, "Though they weren't paid to do it."

"What my 'psychic' teammate has forgotten to mention is the fact these thousands they've killed are all just video game characters," explained Chance, before Stacey could totally flip out about this new piece of information.

"Guys could we get back to the whole secret alliance thing?" asked Sandra, "Billy, you better tell us how many people you have voting with you."

"If he does that, it sort of ruins the whole thing about secrecy you know," said Marshall, "besides I'm fairly sure his group has no power whatsoever."

"You have no idea the connections I have," snarled Billy "I've fought in seven different_"

"Bars?" guessed Stacey, "when the bouncer wouldn't let you in for being underage."

"He probably just didn't like his face," suggested Isaac, "I wouldn't let him into a bar if I was a bouncer."

"What's your deal; this is how you act after I promote you to Head Scavenger?"

"It was my group in the first place! You demoted me!" Chance whistled casually and leaned back in his seat.

"Well I think we know at least one of your members, Isaac and Billy, ace zombie slayers," said Chance.

"I'm afraid I'll have to warn you against making any power plays with your group, I think I speak for everyone no affiliated with you when I say we will remove any threat," warned Cynthia, a hard edge suddenly in her voice.

"Marshall should be our leader," said Alice suddenly, "I believe this would have the best outcome."

"Why me?" asked Marshall, "Sandra could lead, she's a genius."

"Thanks!" Sandra beamed at him, "how about we have no leader and just openly share ideas."

"If you're a genius you should know that a team without a leader can never work," said Isaac, "this is ridiculous."

"We can't have no leader," complained Alice, "that would throw all my psychic predictions of balance, too many rogue elements confusing the time stream."

"Oh no, that'd be an absolute disaster," drawled Chance, "Whatever would we do without your psychic predictions? It'd be absolute anarchy."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Alice: A lot of people don't believe I have powers, I wonder why they are so sceptical? I will meditate on this.**

**Billy: This is falling apart already! Isaac is staging some kind of the mutiny and the others are already onto me. Time for a new strategy, luckily I'm a master of improvising on the fly.**

**Sandra: You can't just appoint a leader on the first night; we haven't even had our first team challenge yet. And I'm definitely not going to appoint a leader just because Alice says so.**

**Isaac: Ok, so I openly defy Billy, help kick him off, gain the others trust and then secretly use the rest of the group to dominate this game. Perfect plan!**

* * *

With Chef's demented idea of what passed for dinner over with, the campers were free to leave the mess hall and spend their first night in Camp Wawanakwa. Of course no one was looking particularly forward this event, either because of how cruddy the cabins were or because they didn't like the company they would have. The only real bright side of going to sleep was that it would mean that this day was finally over, and even that was tarnished by the knowledge that Chris had some torture planned for tomorrow. In their respective cabins, the sixteen cabins settled down to sleep, drawing their first day at Camp Wawanakwa to a close.

* * *

Chris was once more standing alone on the Dock of Shame, only this time it was night and the lightning around him was harsh and artificial. "How will the campers be tortured tomorrow? Will the zombie slayers ever stop failing? Will the rampant attacks on Wawankwa's wildlife ever cease? Will our interns ever get anything right? Tune in next time to Total Drama OUTRAGE!


	3. Chapter 3: Wawanakwa Airlines

**Total Drama Outrage**

**Chapter Three: Wawanakwa Airlines**

**Killer Critics Cabin: Before Dawn**

Surprisingly, when Donovan woke up in the morning, it wasn't because Chris had set off an air horn. No, he woke up in the cold grey predawn light because the smell of fresh paint had invaded the room. Donovan's first inclination was to think Matthew had gone on one of his rage vandalism sprees, only this time with paint instead of his fists but a quick glance across the room revealed Matthew was still asleep. His sheets were twisted as though he'd been in some kind of violent struggle but he had nothing to do with whoever was painting outside. Larry could be discounted as a suspect as well, since he was still fast asleep, he hadn't moved an inch from where he'd collapsed last night. Everett might have been awake, it was impossible to tell if his eyes were open behind the sunglasses but it was obvious he hadn't moved as his bunk was surrounded a complex series of motion detectors that must have been set up while everyone else was asleep. Unfortunately when Donovan attempted to get out of bed, he learned that the detectors didn't just go off if you approached Everett, but pretty much if you moved anywhere in the room.

An electronic howl blared out of hidden speakers and Everett snapped bolt upright so fast he cracked his head on the ceiling. Some bizarre contraption he'd installed up there hissed and dropped a gas mask onto his bed. "Flaming Gorgonzola!" he exclaimed, "they're after me again!" Matthew rolled out of bed in flash and with his eyes still gummed shut with sleep started taking wild haymaker swings into thin air. Well initially he was only hitting thin air but when Donovan came into his range while trying to get Everett to shut off the alarm he got hit instead.

"Another attack! Do you work for the red haired one?" demanded Donovan, "You wear her colours."

"You attacked me," insisted Matthew, "your chest slammed into my fist you idiot." They both had to shout over the alarm to be heard and probably would have continued their conversation at such a deafening level if Everett hadn't finally stopped talking about cheese and finally cut the alarms off with a remote. Larry chose the resulting silence as the perfect time to yawn loudly and languorously stretch his arms over his head.

"Morning pals, it's quiet eh? Not even bird chirping." That was the last straw for Donovan, he practically snarled in rage, baring his teeth angrily.

"Paranoia! Stupidity! Pointless attacks! Laziness! This cabin is a den of weakness, cracks and fault lines run through all of you like a spider's web. I will see each and every one of you broken and cast of this island! Unworthy fools!" he stormed out of the cabin, leaving a startled silence in his wake.

"I'm guess he isn't much of a morning person," Larry said casually, "he'll be even angrier when he hears that Chef doesn't serve coffee at breakfast."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Larry: The Donmeister is cool and all but seriously, he needs to switch to decaf. He was having some mad caffeine withdrawal this morning. And what the hell was the music Everett was playing? Screamo? **

* * *

When Donovan exited the boy's side of the Killer Critics' Cabin the mystery of the smell of paint was finally solved. The artist Lauren appeared to have raided the arts and crafts centre in the dead of night and was busy painting a mural along the side wall of the cabin. She stopped upon noticing Donovan glaring at her and waved cheerfully.

"Morning Donovan! Want to help me paint? I could use someone to paint a giant smiley face," she said, "that'd be great."

"No!" snapped Donovan, "I am heading to the mess hall, when your noxious fumes rouse the others tell them to meet me there for a team meeting. I will deal with the weakness that has infested this team immediately."

"If you say so Donovan, I think I'll just finish this section of my mural first though," replied Lauren, unconcerned by Donovan's irritation. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and left for the mess hall, muttering about the flaws of human society the whole way. "I didn't know weakness had infested the team, I know the cabin is full of roaches though, and mosquitoes, and flies and_" Lauren's list of pests was interrupted when Wolf emerged from the girl's side of the cabin and looked curiously at the mural. "Hello there Wolf, did you tell Donovan to organise a meeting? I thought you were the leader?" Wolf just cocked her head in confusion before suddenly springing into a large bucket of red paint before dashing off towards the woods, leaving a trail of red footprints in the grass.

"Oh hell," groaned Maria as she exited the cabin and saw the red footprints, "who's bleeding to death now? There was some god awful wailing coming from the boy's side and now this."

"Oh it's just paint," said Lauren, "unless Chris keeps buckets of blood lying around the arts and craft centre."

"Wouldn't surprise me," muttered Maria, "blood of interns who die testing his insane challenges."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Chris: Hey! I resent that, I totally donate the blood of dead interns instead of keeping it lying around in the arts and crafts centre. On an unrelated note, do you have any idea how expensive a decent amount of paint is? Most of the budget goes to my hair gel collection people!**

* * *

If Maria was hoping for any answers about the racket that had woken her up, she was in for a disappointment when Matthew was the first to emerge from the boy's side of the cabin. She didn't even have time to finish asking the question before he was in one of his rages. "I HATE questions! They remind me of maths exams ok?"

"Donovan was angry as well when I saw him," observed Lauren, "I think all of you need to get more sleep."

"Oh he was just sulking because I accidentally punched him and Everett was shouting about cheese and there were all these alarms going off and Larry is really lazy," 'explained' Matthew, "something like that anyway."

"Didn't get a freaking word of that," said Maria, before covering a yawn with her hand, "I need a shower, see you guys at breakfast."

"That reminds me, Donovan told me to tell all of you that he wants us to have a team meeting at the mess hall because of some sort of infestation."

"Well Tall, Dark and Serious will have to wait until I've had my shower, and Heidi's still asleep anyway."

"Yeah, Larry went back to sleep as well and Everett has to set up his alarm system again," added Matthew, "Donovan will have to wait."

"If you say so," Lauren said, sounding slightly worried as she continued painting the wall, "I hope he doesn't get too angry."

* * *

**Screaming Fans Cabin: Still before Dawn**

Between Lauren's painting and Everett's alarm system, Chris never got a chance to wake the Killer Critics up at an ungodly hour. Unfortunately, the Screaming Fans didn't have that luxury and if Chris could only wake up half as many campers, well he was going to do it twice as loudly. The resulting explosion of sound as Chris blasted an air horn right into a megaphone seemed to shake the whole island, scattering birds from the treetops in desperate flight. Sandra screamed and clutched at her ears as she was rudely awakened.

"I think my eardrums have been ruptured," she shouted at a near deafening volume in compensation for the persistent ringing in her ears. "Way too far Mclean! Way too far!"

"STOP SHOUTING!" roared Stacey from across the room, "WHY ARE YOU TALKING SO LOUDLY!?"

"Forgive me Stacey, but I dare say you are speaking at a rather loud volume yourself my dear," Cynthia had been wearing earplugs and as a result was able to speak at normal volume, not that it helped the others, because they couldn't hear a word she was saying anyway. To them it just like she was opening and closing her mouth soundlessly and that only seemed to make Stacey angrier.

"You want to sit over there impersonating a fish?" demanded Stacey, "that's not helping."

"Hello?" said Sandra, "I think I've gone deaf over here, does anyone care?"

"Deafness is the least of our worries," Alice had randomly jumped into the conversation, "I did not foresee this awakening, someone must have disturbed the time stream." Stacey still wasn't following the conversation at all and only caught the word stream which she thought was in relation to what she had been saying about fish earlier.

"You're all mad," she complained, "one of you starts pretending to be a fish and the other discusses your new habitat! What's going on here?"

"You're the only one talking about fish," snapped Sandra, getting irritated at how bizarre this morning was rapidly becoming, "Alice was just whinging that her psychic powers failed to inform her that Chris is a sadistic psychopath."

"I had a great aunt who was a bit like that," mused Cynthia, "I think she was locked away in the attic for several years though."

"That's unlawful imprisonment! I knew you were still a criminal like the others," accused Stacey triumphantly.

"Oh, I was rather convinced that it didn't count if said individual was a lunatic, isn't it the done thing to lock them in attics?"

"No," said Sandra, "or else Chris Mclean, Chef Hatchet and a good half of the other contestants would never have been able to leave the house."

"I'll tell you something about lunacy, the number of criminals on this island is absolutely insane," said Stacey, "I'm going to the breakfast before any of you have a chance to poison the food." The idea that Chef's food could get any worse even with the addition of lethal poison was laughable. In fact, it might be an improvement since you wouldn't have to live with the horrendous aftertaste and indigestion for very long. Still, Stacey needed an excuse to get out of the cabin before she lost her mind and breakfast was as good an excuse as any. When she left the girl's side of the cabin she found that the boys were already up, milling around the outside of the cabin. Apparently they hadn't hung around inside their room arguing after Chris' obnoxious wake up call.

"There is no deafness," Marshall was sitting on the grass, meditating in lotus position while he recited a droning chant. "There is only the force."

"I'm telling you boys, that sound reminded me of the mortar fire I heard back when I was on a stealth op in the mountains," Billy was, as usual in the middle of one of his ridiculous stories. "I was right behind enemy lines; there were fires everywhere, screams of pain_"

"Then Smokey the Bear turned up and put out the fire," interrupted Isaac rudely, "the end."

"Don't mock my service record! You weren't there, you didn't fight!"

"Neither did you," said Stacey, announcing her presence, "Did you know that it's a crime to impersonate a member of the armed forces? That goes double if you're doing it for financial gain."

"Watch out Billy," warned Chance, "you'll need a good lawyer once Officer Obnoxious gets on your case."

"I thought she was Inspector Irritating," tried Isaac, "or Detective Drive-you-up-the-wall."

"This is defamation! I'll have all of you in court for this!" insisted Stacey, continuing her ridiculous trend of threatening to send people to court. Marshall cracked one eye open and he stared at her in mild exasperation.

"You do realise they aren't really defaming you right? Not even close."

"They're all going to jail and you'll join them for obstruction of justice!"

"I don't know about justice," Chris' voice boomed out over the intercoms, "but you guys are obstructing today's schedule, get your lazy butts over to the mess hall for breakfast people. It's a special treat related to today's challenge. Oh and Killer Critics, could you especially hurry up? Donovan been sitting in the mess hall for hours glaring holes in the walls, I think he wants to kill all of you or something. It'll be great for the ratings anyway."

"Impossible," called out Sandra, emerging from the doorway of the Screaming Fans Cabin, "unless he's been sitting in there since the middle of last night the only way he could have been in there for hours as if he was stuck in time loop constantly reliving the same moment until it added up to several hours. But if that was the case you wouldn't know about unless you were also trapped in the time loop and if that was the case you couldn't be telling us_"

"Sandra… Shut it!" interrupted Chris, "Just get over the mess hall now!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Donovan: They have only heightened my anger by forcing me to wait so long for their arrival. I will not forget these insults my 'team' has heaped upon me. When it comes to merge, I will crush all of them.**

**Alice: **looking smug with her arms folded **And she says I talk nonsense, what was all that time loop stuff Sandra?**

**Billy: Isaac and Stacey have joined forces to challenge me! I didn't Isaac would dare abandon the zombie slayers but it looks like his hatred has made him go rogue. Kind of the spy they sent me to extract from the Siberian wastes during_**

**Marshall: **still meditating **There is no passion, there is lunacy.**

* * *

**Mess Hall**

If it was even possible, Chef's food service this morning was even worse than it had been yesterday. The 'special treat' Chris had mentioned turned out to be packages of airline meals and Chef was just flat out throwing them at contestants as they came through the door. One flying package slammed into Billy's helmet with enough force to explode and shower the liar with an undetermined substance that might have been edible five years ago. "Eat up maggots!" shouted Chef, "these meals were especially prepared for you by Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines." Chef turned about to stare directly into the camera and started to read off a script, "I would recommend you fly anywhere with them, they are now offering discount seats on the wings of the plane. If you're alive at the end of the flight there's no charge! Now let's see what the cast of Total Drama Outrage think of this new deal!" The cameras were suddenly turned off and Chris strolled into the room, rubbing his hands eagerly.

"Listen up losers, Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines has been suffering a downturn in profits and customer turnouts in relation to those pesky health and safety regulations and have hired the greatest host of all time, me, to film an advert for them. They have also generously the necessary equipment for today's challenge, footage of which may or may not end up in the advert. Now in a minute we're going to be pointing cameras directly at some of you, give glowing testimonials about the airline or you _will_ be disqualified. Am I clear losers?"

"You can't disqualify someone for not lying about an airline!" complained Maria, "of all the reasons to eliminate someone that has to be the most ridiculous."

"Ok, one, yes I can and two, you won't be in the advert anyway, I don't like your face, or your voice, or anything about you for that matter. Billy, you're the best liar we have so you're up first, move over to stand on the X mark over there and give a testimonial when the cameras start rolling. Once you're done I'll call up whoever is going next, the camera will be paused in between testimonials but don't take your time, any questions?"

"Excuse me, but is this an actual challenge?" asked Cynthia, "it seems rather odd."

"Of course it's a real challenge, it tests your ability to improvise and you'll be booted off the show if you don't participate, now get moving people, I've got an advertising deal to secure here!" Billy rushed over to stand on the X, happy to the best at something, even if it was telling ridiculous lies. "Ok, cameras rolling!"

"Hey, I'm Billy," the teenager grinned broadly at the camera, "and I've travelled all over the world. In fact I've flown to every country on the map, and even a few that aren't on the map, and every time I've used Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines. Thanks to their budget prices I was able to save my extensive funds for more important things like_"

"Cut! I don't even want to know what you were going to say there Billy, Heidi, get moving, you're up next." Billy looked rather put out to be stopped before he could rant about various weapons or whatever the hell he was going to claim to have purchased overseas but he moved off the X and joined his teammates without comment. Heidi enthusiastically took his place and shot Chris double thumbs up. "Action!"

"I'm Heidi, you might know me as being completely and undeniably awesome, well it's true. You know what else is true? That Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines is the most reliable, safe, low budget airline I have ever flown on. I don't always flying around the world, but when I do, I fly Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines."

"Cut! Nicely done Heidi, Sandra, this advert needs to some scientific authority, you're up next!" Heidi walked back to her team and shared around a series of high-fives while Sandra reluctantly took her place, obviously uncomfortable about endorsing such a cheap airline. She gave an unenthusiastic wave to indicate she was ready. "Action!"

"As a renowned scientist, I have made it my life's work to study the relative ticket and catering costs of every single passenger airline carrier in the world and I can say with one-hundred percent certainty that Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines are the cheapest to fly with in every possible scenario."

"Cut! Good, now we need some class and style in this advert, Chance, take it away!" Sandra looked relieved to get away from the camera and Chance looked genuinely surprised to be called on. He casually strolled his way over to the X mark drew a deck of cards from one of his pockets, shuffling them before he tipped his fedora to Chris. "Action!"

"If I were you, I wouldn't take a gamble when it comes to air travel, I'd choose _very_ carefully. Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines will make you a budget offer that you can't refuse. You can fly with them and have enough money left over to sleep in a luxury hotel, or you can fly with another airline and sleep with the fishes."

"Cut! Death threat was a touch overkill but I like your style. Alright, that should be enough testimonials. Obviously the Screaming Fans win the first part of this challenge and will get an advantage in the next round."

"No way! You only let one of us compete, compared to three of them, I HATE unfairness!" raged Matthew.

"Hey, it's not my fault everyone else on your team is a complete freak. I only wanted one of you in the advert; the rest of you would ruin it."

"Then there's no way we could have ever won," said Lauren in a tone that suggested she was commenting on the weather, "sort of makes this whole part of challenge pointless if it's one-sided."

"Stop whining, Screaming Fans win this round and there's nothing you can do about it," said Chris, "it's great being the host."

"YEAH! GO TEAM!" cheered Isaac, "what's the other team got? NOTHING!"

"Our victory was inevitable," agreed Alice, "I foresaw very few futures in which the Killer Critics won and only of them was clear enough to pick out any details." Sandra rolled her eyes but chose not comment, probably knowing it would pointless.

"Now," continued Chris, "I _was_ going to make you eat your wonderful airline food during the challenge but because I want to get some footage of Donovan verbally murdering his teammates I will allow you to have breakfast in here. We don't have all morning though, the CEO of Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines wants this advert done by midnight and I'll need to do a _lot_ of editing to make you look human. Enjoy breakfast, losers."

"I have waited long enough," growled Donovan, "be seated and listen for I will only say this once."

"Really? And I here I was hoping you'd repeat it several times," muttered Maria sarcastically. Everett snorted with laughter, Heidi let out a loud laugh and Matthew burst into applause. Whether she understood or not, Wolf realised something was going on and barked excitedly, running around the table. You could almost see steam pouring out of Donovan's ears as he waited for his teammates to stop horsing around and sit down at the table. When they were finally seated he took the time to direct a death glare at each and every one of them.

"When I auditioned for this show," he started, "I did not anticipate that I would have to carry my team all the way to the merge. I must have underestimated the impact that modern society would have on you, for even I did not expect to be confronted by such weakness at every turn. I must make it to the final two, the winner will not be worthy unless they are able to defeat me. I will tolerate no further weakness from you while we remain aligned on the same team." Donovan turned to focus his gaze on Everett, "Caution is a strength, but paranoia is a weakness. You drive yourself into madness anticipating events that will never occur and so you lose more than you gain. I will not allow you to use your alarms again, either you will learn to sleep without your security system or you will not sleep at all. I will destroy your equipment if I see it again."

"I'd rather be alive and tired than well-rested and dead," argued Everett, "if I can't use my alarms I'll just retreat to a more defensible location."

"Fleeing from your fears is the opposite of what I hoped to achieve by forcing your hand, but if it will allow our team peace, so be it," Donovan didn't look overly pleased with Everett's decision but he hassled him no further, turning to look at Matthew instead. "It is a skill to know when it is appropriate to be angry, and when it is best to be calm. You must cease responding to every situation with mindless rage or your anger will cease to have any meaning. If you must enter a rage, at least direct yourself at the enemy, instead of attacking me as you did this morning."

"I need my rage," said Matthew, "it erases everything else in my head so I can finally focus on something."

"There are better ways to focus your mind, and far healthier ones too," advised Donovan, "perhaps now you control the rage, but eventually it will control you and the rage will be all you have left."

"Oh come on, you read that out of fortune cookie," said Larry, "stop trying so hard to be some kind of wizard philosopher pal."

"You are lazy and I will not carry dead weight to the merge," Donovan focused on Larry now. "Know that I will break through your apathy, again and again if I have to, and each time the emotions get to you, it will become harder to bury them once more in apathy." Larry shrugged, doubting that Donovan could do anything that would make him care.

"I'd really prefer you didn't say anything to me," said Lauren, "I already know you don't think I take this seriously enough and think I shouldn't waste time with art but I know what I'm doing."

"Can I second that motion?" asked Heidi, "because I'd really like to skip the part where you accuse me of trying to murder you."

"I will not skip that," snarled Donovan, "only this morning you hired Matthew to attack me in the midst of one of his rages."

"As if!" protested Heidi, "look at my face, does this look the face of someone who hires assassins to kill people!?"

"No one hires me! I work entirely independently of any organisation," insisted Matthew.

"Geez Donovan, this kind of stuff right after you got on Everett's back about being paranoid? I'm disappointed," said Maria, "I really am."

"Your comments are increasingly irritating," warned Donovan, "stop such antagonistic behaviour."

"Uh oh, Donovan's grasping at straws, insulting him counts as a weakness now?" asked Maria, "just give it up already, you can't fix everyone."

"Maybe not, but I must try. Even if you fight me at every turn and make foolish decisions like trying to say that Wolf is our leader." Wolf snarled ferociously at Donovan but he didn't look threatened in the slightest. "Either you feign understanding or it is your lack of understanding that is false. I will find out Wolf, be sure of this." With the 'team meeting' apparently over, Donovan looked up and appeared to speak to the ceiling. "I have said my part Chris, commence your challenge." Chris' response was immediate, his voice bursting from the intercoms.

"Thank you, not enough murder for my liking but I figure you'll get to that once they get a chance to annoy you further. Campers tear yourself away from your delicious breakfast and make your way to the Wawanakwa Aerodrome."

"Uh, Chris, we don't know where that place is," said Sandra, "we can't go to a location we have no knowledge of, it's an illogical instruction."

"Seriously!? Are you people all useless, Chef, would you direct these babies to the Aerodrome, since apparently they don't know where it is."

"It would be my pleasure," Chef loomed eerily in the entranceway of the mess hall, a meat cleaver in his hand "follow me and you might survive."

"He's all bluff," said Chance, "the knife probably isn't even real," at that moment Chef hurled the knife through the air and it buried itself in the table right in front of Chance. "Or not, sometimes I get the odds wrong."

"That's what I thought maggots, now get moving!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Heidi: I am not trying to kill anyone! What's wrong with Donovan? He's obsessed with the idea that we're mortal enemies or something.**

**Cynthia: I should feel sorry for the Killer Critics, but I sure I am glad Donovan's behaviour caused Chris to delay the challenge. Missing the only meal that Chef hasn't personally cooked might have been disastrous, who knows when it will be safe to eat again?**

**Isaac: That Donovan guy is a like a mad dog, I sure hope the Critics manage to eliminate him before merge because he looks like a nightmare to deal with. I've got enough problems trying to regain control of my zombie survival group, curse you Billy!**

**Chance: Is it worse if Chef is skilled enough to deliberately miss me or if he wasn't aiming at all and I'm only uninjured by chance?**

**Matthew: I HATE Donovan**

* * *

**Wawanakwa Aerodrome**

It was unsurprising that none of the campers knew where to find the Wawanakwa Aerodrome, since it quite plainly didn't exist. Chef just led to them to open field containing nothing other than Chris Mclean standing next massive object concealed by a tarp. Well there were also a few interns hanging around, presumably to assist with the upcoming big reveal but no one acknowledged their existence. "Welcome to the newly opened Wawanakwa Aerodrome!" announced Chris, "home of one of the most sophisticated aircraft in the world, donated generously by_"

"We know already!" shouted Stacey, "I swear you've never even heard of the Intrusive Advertisement Act."

"I haven't," admitted Chris, "and I don't want to because I'm getting paid extra for every time I say Total Budget Cheapskate Airlines."

"One more time and my head is going to explode," groaned Maria.

"Her circuits are overheating! We need a mechanic here stat!" called Everett, prompting Maria to kick him sharply in the shin. "Yowch! Hydraulic powered limbs!"

"Excuse me? Are any of you Chris Mclean? No? Then shut it! Reveal the venue of the second part of the challenge," Chris clicked his fingers and the interns scurried over to heave the tarp away, revealing what appeared to be a plane without any wings clamped by several mechanical arms and other pieces of machinery. "Not only does this beauty contain a sophisticated flight simulation program but it can also simulate extreme turbulence and variations of gravitational force. You will be manning this aircraft; each of you assigned different roles and challenges. Screaming Fans, because you won the first part of the challenge, you get the advantage of watching the killer critics go first."

"How exactly is that an advantage?" asked Sandra, "shouldn't we at least get the choice whether to go first or second?"

"It's an advantage because you'll be able to watch everything they do on widescreen television!" another interns wheeled a television into the field. "And you'll have more time to memorise this," Chris hurled a book as thick as a paving slab at Sandra. "The flight manual, congratulations, you're flight engineer for the Screaming Fans. Billy, you can be captain and Isaac, since you get along so well, you can be co-pilot," Chris sniggered as he threw them both pilot's hats. "Cynthia, got a uniform for you, welcome to your new career as an airhostess, Chance, you'll be joining her as an air steward. Stacey, Alice, Marshall, you'll be the passengers. Enjoy your advantage of watching the Killer Critics fail before you."

"Hey! We might be good at this!" protested Heidi.

"Oh I doubt it, Heidi, I doubt it. For the Killer Critics; Lauren will be captain, Everett will be the co-pilot and Larry will be the flight engineer," he threw Lauren and Everett their hats and a second flight manual to Larry, who probably only caught it because it would be too much hassle to bend over and pick up from the ground if he dropped it. "Heidi and Matthew, you are now flight attendants enjoy. That leaves Donovan, Maria and Wolf as the passengers. Get your butts onto the flight simulator so I can announce your first task over the intercom. Screaming Fans, take a break, you're up after these idiots crash and burn." Chris pressed a button on the remote that suddenly appeared in his hand and the doors of the plane slid open, allowing the Killer Critics to enter and take their stations before the doors thudded back closed with a grim finality.

* * *

**Flight Challenge: Killer Critics**

"Congratulations on passing the rigorous training required to serve as crew aboard Wawanakwa Airlines," Chris' voice entered the cockpit where Lauren, Everett and Larry where currently seated. It was pretty much an exact replica of the cockpit of a large passenger plane with countless instruments, buttons, levers and switches. A virtual image of a runway was displayed in the front windshields. "Hope you know how to speed read Larry, because this flight is set for take-off preeeetty soon and you really don't want to delay any flight that has Donovan on-board. Lauren, find the intercom button and send a pre-flight message for passengers and crew, can't take off without one." Lauren stared at the dashboard in front of her for several seconds until she located the intercom button and held it down as she spoke into her microphone.

"Good evening passengers of Flight 5776 Wawanakwa Airlines," said Lauren pleasantly, "This is your captain Lauren speaking and I'm joined by my cuckoo co-pilot Everett and the ridiculously lazy flight engineer Larry. I'd like to say that this will be a safe flight but that would be a lie, you will all probably die or suffer horrific trauma."

"Lauren! The unprofessionalism, it burns! You are clear for take-off," Chris paused as no one in the cockpit moved, "that means go!"

"Ok Larry, did you have time to read the take-off procedures?" asked Lauren, already knowing his answer before he even opened his mouth.

"Nah should be just like driving a car," Larry hadn't even opened the manual and just reclining in his seat. "Turn all the engines on and push that big lever thing forward until you run out of runway then both of you pull those steering wheel looking things back as hard as you can."

"That sounds brilliant Larry," said Everett as he leaned forward and began flicking the switches labelled Engine 1,2,3 and 4. "Engines on captain, where'd you learn that?"

"Saw them doing something like that on television once," Larry said dismissively, "I watch documentaries about plane crashes to remind myself why I never fly anywhere."

"Ok, I'm going to push the throttle all the way forward then," said Lauren, "not a very nice word is it? Sounds like I'm going to strangle someone." There was sudden roar as she pushed the throttle forward and the virtual display showed them accelerating down the runway while various instruments came to life, numbers flashing across them rapidly. "I just want to soar amongst the virtual clouds, I wonder what all these silly numbers mean." Larry might have been able to tell her if he'd bother to flick through the manual but Everett was left to guess instead.

"Acceleration, wind speed in knots, probability of encountering hostile craft, fuel remaining, height above sea level, which of these stupid things tells us when we've got enough speed to take off?" asked Everett. Larry pointed casually at the screen in front of them.

"I think the end of the runway and that fence you're about to smack into tells you it's time to take off," he said, sounding unconcerned as he fiddled with the recline controls of his seat, shifting backwards and forwards constantly.

"Time for this metal bird to fly!" Lauren heaved back on the control column in front of her while Everett did the same on his end. The cockpit rattled violently and the view on the screen skipped up and down before the ground was shown to fall away beneath them. "I'm sure real flight simulators aren't built to allow sadistic reality hosts to rock the cockpit around."

"Ha! That's nothing Lauren," Chris was speaking to them once more, "your plane is rising far too steeply and the force of gravity against you has just doubled."

"No it hasn_" Everett never finished his sentence as he was hurled backwards into his seat and held there by a crushing force.

"I love this machine, I really do," Chris laughed maniacally as the three teens struggled to make even the slightest movements in their oppressive environment.

"Pals, now would be a good time to release the control columns so the plane will automatically straighten," gasped Larry, the unread flight manual pressing into stomach.

"Release the controls!? Are you mad?" shouted Everett, "where are the weapons on this thing? Aliens have caught us in a gravitational warp!" he continued to wrestle frantically with the control column even as Lauren released hers. The plane veered wildly to the left instead of continuing its near vertical climb and whatever demented device Chris was using lowered the force pinning them to their seats.

"Oh good, I think we confused the plane so much it stopped trying to fly vertically upwards," said Lauren cheerfully, "good job Everett, could you release you control column now, I'd rather we didn't fly in circles." Everett let go and wiped a hand across his forehead in relief, unfortunately Chris chose this moment to strike.

"Too bad Lauren, because both engines on the right wing have just failed due to strain of that climb," the lights referring to engines 3 and 4 suddenly went dead and alarms began to sounded as the plane began to spin uncontrollably. The two engines remaining on the left wing were still on full throttle driving the plane into a spiral. On a normal flight simulator this wouldn't be a problem but because Chris was demented, their seats began to spin rapidly in circles as well, disorienting them further.

"Larry! What the hell are we supposed to do when two of the engines fail!" demanded Everett as he spun wildly in his seat. Larry ripped a page out of the manual and folded it into a paper plane, before lobbing it across the cockpit.

"Just fly a paper plane pal, its way easier." Lauren seized the throttle controls and pulled them all the way back, unfortunately managing to stall the two remaining engines.

"No engines, disappointing guys, really disappointing," said Chris over the intercom, "your sudden descent from the skies results in a zero gravity environment. Lucky you're all wearing your seat belts."

"You didn't give us seatbelts!" protested Lauren before her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch and she felt herself floating from the chair. Everett tried to grab the armrests of his chair but when he realised his sunglasses were floating off he grabbed those instead and was also lifted from his seat. For some reason Larry was the only one of them who actually had a seat belt and was trapped his seat, his arms and legs flailing wildly.

"I'd tell you to brace for impact, but you can't!" Chris laughed as the display screen showed the rapidly approaching ground. Even though they knew it was simulation, the three of them couldn't help but clench their eyes shut before impact. Once again machinery violently rocked the cockpit and gravity return to normal, sending them all sprawling, with the exception of Larry who hadn't moved at all. "Crash landing, Killer Critics FAIL the flight portion of the challenge. Suckers! I'll leave you to stew in your failure while your teammates attempt their part of the challenge. Later losers."

* * *

**Cabin Challenge: Killer Critics**

"Whoa guys, your pilots just killed the lot of you," announced Chris, his voice echoing around the false aircraft cabin. Donovan, Maria and Wolf were seated uncomfortably in hard plastic seats while Heidi and Matthew stood at the rear of the cabin in their uniforms, each holding a food trolley. "Tragic crash, full engine failure only minutes after take-off, it was almost like someone was deliberating messing with the pilots."

"You put Everett, Lauren and Larry in the cockpit, there was going to be a crash even if you didn't interfere," pointed out Maria, "messing with them was just overkill."

"Hey, always better to overachieve than to underachieve," said Chris as the seat belt lights flicked on above the three passengers. "Passengers, you have two simple tasks, one; remain in your seats for the entirety of the flight. Two, don't barf up your breakfast, or lose your lunch; it depends on whether the flight attendants are actually able to serve any meals. I'd tell you to put your seatbelts on buuut you don't have any! Flight attendants, you must remain professional and on your feet at all times, as well as completing various tasks, first of which is the flight safety briefing, which of you wants the honour?"

"I HATE safety!" shouted Matthew, kicking angrily at the cabin wall, leaving a dent in the cheap material.

"Guess that means Heidi's going to give the safety briefing, take it away!"

"But I don't know anything about airplane safety!" complained Heidi, "gee thanks Matthew. Um, I think oxygen masks might fall from the ceiling for some reason, they look pretty ugly but you've got to put them on or you'll die. What else? There are the yellow vest things, Life Vests! Use them to float instead of drowning. Do that thing where you put your head on the chair in front if there looks like there's going to be a crash and I don't even know where the exits are because Chris didn't give us proper doors. I think that's it?"

"I've never been on a plane, but I doubt such words are said before a flight," rumbled Donovan, "you have failed us."

"The big guy is right," interjected Chris, "that was pathetic, Matthew could have done better, and he'd have just said 'hate' fifty times."

"Hate and rage," corrected Matthew, "get it right Mclean."

"I don't have to get things right, I'm the host," bragged Chris, "now the plane has managed to get off the ground but the pilots have managed to get into a near vertical climb," as soon as Chris finished speaking, there was the grinding of machinery as the mechanical arms went to work and tilted the whole cabin. The passengers were flung back in their seats but Heidi and Matthew didn't have that luxury and were thrown against the back of the cabin, their trolleys hurtling after them. They were both forced to roll aside to avoid being crushed by their trolleys and were left practically lying against the back wall, their feet barely touching the ground.

"This still counts as having our feet on the ground Chris!" shouted Heidi, "don't you dare disqualify us."

"Now would I do that? Anyway, the pilots got out of the climb and entered a dive instead," the mechanical arms came to life once more and tilted the cabin in the other direction. The food trolleys shot off like rockets, smashing into the front wall of the cabin. Since there was nothing to grip on the back wall, Matthew and Heidi were also dislodged and began to slide down the aisle way, desperate to remain on their feet. The passengers were forced to cling to their armrests for dear life to avoid be flung to the front of the plane as well. Matthew was able to hit the back of Maria's chair and hold onto that while Heidi reached out and managed to grab at Donovan's arm in an effort to steady herself. Unfortunately Donovan believed that this was yet another attempt to sabotage him and furiously shook her off. Heidi was flung loose and finally lost her balance and fell on her back, sliding backwards down the plane. An air horn blasted and Chris could be heard laughing hysterically as the cabin was finally righted.

"Oh too bad Heidi, a real flight attendant would never fall over, guess that means you fail this part of the challenge."

"Please tell me that was the end of the flight," said Maria as Matthew stumbled away from the back of her chair.

"Nope, the plane has just flown right into a storm and hit some extreme turbulence, enjoy!" The mechanical arms began to violently rock the cabin and storm sound effects were played over the speakers. A particularly loud thunder clap startled Wolf and she leapt out of her chair with a panicked howl. "Wolf left her seat, FAILED! Oh and Matthew, would you please serve some inflight meals to our remaining passengers?"

"I'll do it," snarled Heidi, picking herself up from the floor and seizing two meal packets from one of the food trolleys. "This is for throwing me down the plane!" she hurled the two packets at Donovan and then reached for more, constantly pelting the giant teen. Donovan roared in rage as various packets exploded on impact, splattering him with helpings of chicken, beef and tomato soup. He rose from his seat to confront Heidi but he didn't make it a step across the cabin before Chris was speaking.

"And Donovan leaves his seat, FAILURE!" the plane rocked with particularly violent force, hurling the boy back into his seat where Heidi continued to pelt him until she ran out of airplane meals to hurl at him. "Matthew, since Heidi so politely delivered the food down that end of the plane for you, find an unexploded packet and serve it to Maria, who will then eat it, in the middle of this turbulence."

"No one should have to eat this rubbish," said Matthew, "she can't have a meal if I refuse to deliver one."

"Sure dude, but that means you FAIL! I'll have to end the challenge here, way to spoil the fun dude." The cabin immediately stopped rocking. "I could have continued until Maria was also eliminated but I needed at least one of you to pass the challenge so the Screaming Fans have a score to beat. You may now leave the plane." Both the doors in the cockpit and cabin slid open to reveal the field outside and the Killer Critics gratefully disembarked. Wolf in particular seemed especially glad to get back outside, hurling herself down onto the grass and lying spreadeagled with a contented sigh. Other team members weren't nearly as happy, Donovan and Heidi for example were still furious with each other.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Heidi: Donovan made me fail the challenge! He didn't have to throw me down the plane; he deserved every single one of those airplane meals. I wish there'd been more to throw!**

**Donovan: **still covered in a mess of airplane food **At least I have finally revealed Heidi's true nature, maybe the others will finally believe that she is in fact trying to kill me and listen to what I say in future. When her attempt to pull me out of my seat failed she was forced to resort to crude projectile weaponry. Thankfully, I am unharmed, the food was not warm.**

**Lauren: Now I wish I had been in the cabin, the food service looked really interesting! Donovan looked like he ate pretty much everything on board. Being grumpy this morning must have worked up his appetite.**

**Maria: its official, we have lost this challenge already. On the bright side, I'm the only who passed the challenge so I should be safe from elimination. You know, since that pretty much indicates that I'm the only competent member of the Killer Critics right now. They'd look pretty stupid voting me off.**

**Isaac: This is bad, our team has to lose so I can kick Billy off and regain control. But how are we supposed to lose when the Killer Critics did so badly? Why doesn't anything go right in this place!?**

* * *

"The captain, co-pilot and flight engineer all automatically fail due to the catastrophic crash that occurred on their watch. Larry gets honourable mention for ripping up the flight manual." Chris was announcing the results of Killer Critics attempt to the assembled campers, not that it was really necessary since the Screaming Fans had been watching the whole thing anyway. "Matthew fails for refusing to serve food to a customer, Heidi fails for falling over AND assaulting a passenger. Donovan and Wolf both left their seats despite the seat belt sign being on so they FAILED as well. Maria is the only member of the Killer Critics to pass the challenge, Screaming Fans; you must have at least two members pass to win this challenge. If none of you pass, the Killer Critics win. Hope you learned something useful, Screaming Fans, you're up!" The doors of the plane slid open once again and interns rushed in, "as soon as the interns clean up the mess Heidi made and bring in some new trolleys that is."

* * *

**Flight Challenge: Screaming Fans**

"With slightly more training than the Killer Critics and hopefully a great deal less stupidity, the flight crew for the Screaming Fans are up now," Sandra, Billy and Isaac were now in the cockpit, awaiting the start of the challenge. "You should know how this works after watching the last team but in case you're imbeciles, Billy, I need you to give a pre-flight message before take-off, make it good." Billy loudly cleared his throat before depressing the intercom button and beginning his speech.

"Some of you may be frequent fliers but let me tell you something, you haven't flown anywhere until you've cruised low over a battlefield while machine gun fire rips the air around you. Until you've seen the enemy scramble for cover as your fighter approaches. You don't understand the meaning of choice until you're one button away from unleashing an incendiary hell storm upon the enemy. I'm Captain Billy and I've flown through some of the worst battlefields in history so you can rest assured that there is no storm, no mechanical failure and no hijacker that can possibly bring this plane out of the sky while I'm at the controls. Thank you for choosing to fly Wawanakwa Airlines and have a pleasant flight, Captain Billy out."

"Yeaaah, a little over the top there Billy, and you didn't even mention your fellow crew members but they're losers anyway so I'll let you off for that. Whatever, you're clear for take-off so scram!"

"Ok so I've marked the pages addressing appropriate take-off procedure and I'll need to you to follow my instructions very carefully," said Sandra. "First you'll need to confirm that the fuel gauge indicates an appropriate level for a successful flight. Assuming a three hour flight that should be_"

"Chill Sandra, I've got this, I've played Aerial Ace Fighter Pilot World War V, you don't need to check any of that crap," said Billy, ignoring her advice and starting to flick the engine switches on. A task that was taking significantly longer than it should have since Isaac kept surreptitiously flicking them back off from his co-pilot's seat.

"What's wrong with you, no way do you just turn the engines on without reading the provided mechanics report of their latest maintenance," argued Sandra.

"Hello, expert pilot here, Isaac, give us full throttle would you?" Isaac spent several seconds pretending he didn't understand the instruction before taking an unholy amount of time to locate the throttle lever. Even then he didn't stop his sabotage efforts, pretending that he couldn't budge the lever.

"Sorry, it won't budge, the Critics must have busted it," he lied.

"Do I have to do everything myself around here?" demanded Billy, "let me try." He wrenched the throttle forward with far more force than necessary and nearly ripped the thing out of the console. The plane lurched forward than stopped once again as Isaac, 'accidentally' dragged the throttle back down. "Idiot! Stop wrecking stuff!" Billy was able to crank the throttle back up and the plane began hurtling down the virtual runway.

"Watch our velocity readings and the wind speed in knots" urged Sandra, "they need to be at certain optimal levels before we can attempt a take-off, give me a sec to find them," Sandra tried to turn to another marked page but she never got the chance, Billy wasn't waiting for any readings and wrenched back on the control column at the same time Isaac pushed forwards. A strange gurgling noise rang out in the cockpit as the plane seemed to get confused by the conflicting commands and then miraculously the screen showed the plane somehow getting airborne, barely clearing the airport fence as it wobbled into the sky. "Stop ignoring me! We can't fly this low!"

"Then how am I supposed to spot the enemy military base for our bombing run?" asked Billy, "This is clearly a military operation disguised and a civilian passenger carrier. Good job keeping flying low Isaac." Gritting his teeth in annoyance as yet another attempt to fail the flight challenge went unsuccessfully; Isaac immediately changed what he was doing, pulling back on the control column instead. The plane began to climb higher, but just like the Killer Critic's flight, their ascent was far too steep thanks to both captains heaving back on the control columns with the engines running full throttle.

"Guys! Stop pulling back so hard on the control columns and for pity's sake lower the throttle! It was never meant to be that high in the first place!"

"As captain I'm going to respectfully request that you shut the hell up so I can concentrate," said Billy, "flying this plane is a delicate operation don't you know?" With a wordless growl of frustration, Sandra got out of her seat, lifted the flight manual and smashed it down over Billy's helmet, which he had refused to take off despite receiving a captain's hat. The helmet absorbed the worst of the blow but the boy was still dazed, releasing the controls and that was all the opening Isaac needed.

"Mutiny! You take over Sandra, I'll get rid of this clown," he lunged out of his own seat and tackled Billy. The two of them crashed to the floor of cockpit and scuffled about, throwing punches at each other. Sandra casually chose to ignore this and hopped into Billy's recently vacated seat and began to regain control of the plane. Within moments the steep ascent ceased and the plane levelled out, flying smoothly before Sandra hastily activated the autopilot.

"Chris! I've stabilised the plane! Stop the challenge now!" demanded Sandra, "Matthew and Isaac are going to kill each other in a minute. Not that it'd be overly bad if it happened but I'd rather our team didn't have a double elimination due to injury! Especially not during the first real challenge!"

"Fine, due to an unexpected storm, you experience a great deal of turbulence," said Chris and the cockpit shook violently, throwing the boys apart. "Happy now? You've spoiled the ratings _and_ my fun. I'm failing Isaac and Billy for that little display, Sandra you pass for saving the flight. If no one from your team passes the cabin challenge it will end up as a draw and we'll have to cut to a tiebreaker," Chris laughed sadistically, giving the impression that they did _not_ want to know what the tiebreaker was. "Next part of the challenge is coming up, Matthew, Isaac; try not to kill each other until the challenge is over ok?"

* * *

**Cabin Challenge: Screaming Fans**

"Good news Screaming Losers, despite a mutiny and a brawl, your flight crew was somehow able to prevent a horrific crash and the loss of everyone on board. On the down side, mutinies and brawls are _not_ part of airline policy, so there were some failures. You guys know the drill already, passengers, don't leave your seats or barf, flight attendants, remain on your feet and professional at all times. Now Chance and Cynthia, which of you is going to give the pre-flight safety briefing? Maybe someone who actually knows something about airplane safety this time around?"

"If it's alright with you Chance," started Cynthia, "I think I can do a good job handling this part of the challenge."

"Be my guest," agreed Chance, "I'm more about risks than safety anyway."

"Ok Cynthia, your time starts now!"

"Greetings and salutations cherished customers, my name is Cynthia and your safety is my primary concern. In the event of an explosive decompression at an altitude unsuited to human respiration, oxygen masks will deploy from the ceiling above you. If someone beside you is having difficulty with their mask, ensure you put your own safely before attempting to assist them as lack of breathable air can rapidly lead to unconsciousness and death. If the pilot determines that is necessary to perform an emergency water landing, life vests equipped with whistles have been placed in the compartments beneath your seats. Put them on before impact but DO NOT inflate them before escaping the plane or you may find yourself trapped inside due to the size and buoyancy of the vests. In order to minimise the likelihood of sustaining injury, it is important to assume the brace position before any hard impact, bracing your head and arms against the seat in front. Finally, your exists are, here, here and here," Cynthia just pointed at random spots on the wall, as it was impossible to see the doors from inside. "Thank you for listening and have a pleasant flight."

"Finally, someone who can do things right!" said Chris, "well done Cynthia. Unfortunately, your safety briefing didn't cover the appropriate response to being trapped in a TORNADO!"

"I have an uncanny sense that this cabin will begin spinning very soon," said Alice, "whether we will end up in a fantasy world is unclear." Marshall braced himself in his seat, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

"There is no sickness, there is only refusing to eat breakfast."

"You didn't eat!?" raged Stacey, "that's cheating you can't_" she was cut off as howling wind sound effects played and the cabin began to spin crazily in circles.

"Can't make sense of reality," groaned Chance, "disorientation too great, likelihood of folding this round is high."

"References to card games are unnecessary," Cynthia said calmly, casually leaning on her cane in the midst of all the whirling chaos. "An impeccable sense of balance would do you better here."

"More cheating!" gasped Stacey, "none of us have canes, you people make me sick!"

"I think," started Alice, her face having gone as green as her hair, "that any sickness you are experiencing is a result of this spinning." She fell forwards in her seat and started vomiting uncontrollably. Seeing Alice vomiting up half-digested airplane food was enough to set Stacey off as well.

"Public drunkenness!' she blurted out randomly before she too started vomiting as well. Marshall's eye where still closed but he clearly winced in disgust at the sounds he was hearing. Finally the plane stopped spinning and the howling wind was replaced with the sound of Chris laughing hysterically.

"Knew I should have given you all barf bags," said Chris, "I'm _so_ not cleaning that up. Flight attendants, new challenge, one of you needs to clean that mess up while the other serves in-flight meals to our hungry passengers. Or just Marshall, since Alice and Stacey are ELIMINATED!"

"I fear that you are mistaken Mister Mclean," said Cynthia, "we have not been provided with any cleaning supplies and therefore the task you have set is most unfortunately not possible."

"Too bad, you'll have to improvise! Get to it before you fail for such slow service, geez you just can't find a good budget airline these days."

"I'll leave that to you, Cynthia" offered Chance quickly, "I'd better deliver the food considering how heavy these trolleys are." Cynthia just frowned at him in displeasure.

"I do not think any difference in physical strength prompts your decision to avoid having to clean up vomit and I'd rather you didn't pretend otherwise." Marshall suddenly laughed, finally opening his eyes.

"So glad I didn't eat this morning," he said, "and also glad that I didn't get picked to be a flight attendant."

"The odds were in your favour," agreed Chance as he started to push his food trolley up the aisle way towards Marshall. "We'll see if your luck holds in a poker game after this challenge."

"Yeaah, speaking of luck, you don't have much of it, because the plane just entered a steep climb. Do not lose the trolley;" advised Chris as the plane began to tilt backwards, "it would be _very_ unprofessional." The food trolley was hard enough to push on a level surface but now tilted at an angle it was trying to roll backwards and crush Chance against the back wall, forcing the boy throw all his strength against it just to stay in place. Marshall had no such problems, in absolutely no danger of falling out of his seat, of course he was forced back against it rather uncomfortably but that was a relatively minor problem. Cynthia started to slide backwards and it looked as though she surely must fall before she suddenly twisted the handle of her cane and a blade shot out from the end, digging into the floor and giving her something to hold onto.

"Concealed weapon!" shouted Stacey, struggling to look dignified in her vomit-stained uniform, "that blade is against regulations!"

"It also counts as punching a hole in the fuselage at a high altitude," Chris informed them in sadistic glee, "unfortunately the producers say I can't drain all air out of the cabin and risk you all asphyxiating but I _can_ set off explosives in close proximity to you. Say hello to explosive decompression, Bon Voyage!" Some kind of explosive detonated right under where the food trolley was located, the blast hurling it through the roof of the cabin as well as tearing a gaping hole in the floor. Without the luxury of a sword cane to tether him to the ground, Chance was also sent flying off his feet and rolled all the way down to the back of the cabin. The only upside seemed to be that the vomit was now able to drain out of the hole in the floor, solving Cynthia's cleaning challenge.

"It appears I have completed my task," observed Cynthia, "will you end the challenge while Marshall and I still remain or would you see us eliminated too?"

"It's kinda tempting to eliminate you for resulting in the destruction of the aircraft but since you did so well in the safety briefing and that's really more a flight crew problem anyway, I'll let you off. You are free to disembark the plane through the new exit. Unless you're in the cockpit, then you can use the door. Do not smash through the separating wall just to jump through a hole in the floor. I might want to reuse this thing you know?"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Cynthia: There's nothing wrong with having a sword cane, a lady needs to be prepared doesn't she?**

**Stacey: Criminals! Lunatics! They're all cheating; I won't stand this for this! **Stacey goes green as her stomach rumbles again and she rapidly sits down **I didn't mean like that!**

**Marshall: That was far too easy; I thought this island was going to challenge me. What are a merry-go-round and an explosion to a skilled martial artist?**

**Sandra: Do I regret hitting the annoying little mythomaniac over the head with a flight manual? No, he was going to cost us the challenge and make the plane crash! He deserved it."**

**Billy: **is covered in bruises and his eye patch has switched eyes **I've trained with greatest experts in hand to hand combat. That little scuffle was nothing I couldn't handle. Isaac is off the zombie slayer squad! And this show as soon as possible, Sandra too, since she started the mutiny in the first place. They'll all pay!**

* * *

All the campers, many looking in far worse shape than they had been before taking part in the flight simulation from hell, were assembled in the field listening to the final announcement of the results. "Billy and Isaac fail for brawling in the cockpit and nearly destroying the plane. Sandra passes for her excellent studying and saving the plane from disaster. Alice and Stacey both fail for puking up their breakfast and so does Chance for failing to stay on his feet. Cynthia and Marshall pass for somehow not dying horribly during that whole ordeal. That means the Screaming Fans have three passes to the Killer Critics one, Screaming Fans Win!"

"I told you we were the best man!" bragged Isaac, "let's curb stomp the Killer Crazies right out of the game!"

"I'm not really one for such violence," mused Cynthia, "but I am glad we won."

"Says the girl with a SWORD!" pointed out Stacey, "an ILLEGAL SWORD!"

"Oh, she has a sword? That's nice, is she a knight?" wondered Lauren

"Ha! Knights in armour have been replaced by state of the art the mech suits these days," explained Everett, "though Maria would know_"

"Finish that sentence Everett," said Maria, "I dare you."

"Don't finish the sentence pal," advised Larry, "it's not worth it."

"Quiet, soon to be one less of you losers, sometime before sunset I'll need you chumps to visit the confessional and decide who you want to vote off. See you at the bonfire pit, losers!"

* * *

**Emergency meeting of the Ace Zombie Slayer Society (minus Isaac and with a mysteriously injured Billy)**

"As team leader, I reserve the right to tell you two how the vote and therefore I need you to kick off Donovan. He's as crazy as your whole team combined and ten times stronger. You need to get rid of him before merge ok?" said Billy to the Matthew and Larry as they all lurked behind the mess hall.

"I was going to vote for him anyway, I HATE Donovan!" shouted Matthew, causing Billy to visibly flinch.

"This is a secret meeting! Oh and Isaac is now public enemy number one, he's out of the group and going home so stay away from him at all costs. He's dangerous, tried to kill me earlier."

"Whatever pal, I'll vote for the Donmeister just because he needs to get off this island and get a caffeine fix. Did you see how much he ate during the challenge? There was food all over him," said Larry. Matthew could have explained what actually happened but didn't bother and so the rumour that Donovan was foodaholic lived on. "Guy's in trouble, I got to help him out." With that the three of them parted ways, unaware that a certain scientist who was determined to destroy Billy's group had followed them and overheard the whole thing.

* * *

**Screaming Fans Cabin: Girl's Side**

"So Larry and Matthew are in cahoots with Billy," explained Sandra, "they've got to before merge or else they'll join forces with Billy. If he's still here that is."

"I fail to grasp why you mention this," said Alice, "they are on the other team; we have no say in who gets eliminated over there."

"Actually, I dare say it would be fairly simple to tip the vote slightly towards Matthew or Larry tonight," said Cynthia. "But such a course of action wouldn't be very honourable."

"Who cares?" asked Stacey, "you're all crooks anyway so you can forget honour; I'll have no part of your cheating."

"Doesn't bother me," Sandra shrugged carelessly before looking back over to Cynthia. "Matthew's a loose cannon, they're more likely to fail again if he remains so I say we try to get Larry booted tonight. I can get Wolf's vote by just handing her a piece of paper with Larry's name on it and telling her to go into the confessional, how else is she going to vote?"

"I'm not sure about this whole thing but I believe Everett's state of mind is such that I could fairly easily convince him to vote for Larry."

"And so the course of the game is changed," intoned Alice, "hope that you don't regret it."

* * *

**Outside Killer Critics Cabin**

Matthew, Larry and Everett were all relaxing aside the cabin when Cynthia happened to walk past, brushing against Larry as she did so. A piece of paper fluttered to the ground in her wake, supposedly accidentally dropped when she attempted to pass it to Larry. Of course the lazy teen was too busy 'conserving his energy' to notice any of this, allowing the always paranoid Everett to sneak over and unfurl the discarded piece of paper before sneaking off to read it in peace.

_Larry,_

_I am thankful that you chose to share your concerns about Everett with our team. Rest assured we have also noticed the disturbing trends in his behaviour but I do not believe this makes him a threat. I'm afraid we will not agree to join with you in eliminated him if he makes it to merge. Many Apologies,_

_Cynthia_

Everett furiously crumbled the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. "So Larry's been plotting against me? Its game over for him then! Nobody gets away with plotting against me!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Everett: I vote for Larry the Traitor who Traits! Or who betrays, whatever, I vote for Larry ok?**

**Heidi: Donovan thinks I'm his enemy? Well guess what? Now I am, I vote for Donovan!**

**Donovan: It is Larry's time to leave, I have arranged a plan that will see him broken but it requires his departure from the island.**

**Wolf: **holding a piece of paper with Larry's name on it, looking rather confused at this whole event

**Larry: Goodbye Donmeister, Billy told Matthew and I to get rid of you, no hard feelings. Just following orders, since it's too much hassle to disobey them.**

* * *

**The Bonfire Pit: That Night**

"Very soon one of you will be a confirmed loser and leave this island forever, walking the Dock of Shame and taking a ride on the Boat of Losers and you can never, ever come back," started Chris as he stood in front of the Killer Critics, who were seated on various tree stumps. "Those of you who receive an envelope of enraged hate mail from me are safe tonight. Oh and before we start, votes against me do not count! Don't do it people! Now, those of you confirmed safe without having a received a single vote tonight are; Everett, Heidi, Maria, Matthew and Wolf," he casually hurled envelopes to all of them and was about to continue when Maria opened hers and looked at Chris curiously.

"Why are these stuffed with legal forms and court summons addressed to you?" she asked.

"Did I tell you to open them? No! So don't worry about it," said Chris, "now, also safe with only one vote for her is Lauren. That leaves Donovan and Larry, which of you losers will be heading home tonight on the boat of losers? I honestly don't know because BOTH of you received three votes. It's tiebreaker time!" Larry in sighed in disappointment.

"I don't suppose you're going to forfeit Donmeister?" he asked hopefully.

"No, I will compete and I will crush you," replied Donovan gravely.

"Well it's too much hassle to compete in a tiebreaker, I forfeit." Larry got up from his tree stump and offered a bow to his former teammates. "Catch you later pals."

"What!? You want to spoil my dramatic tiebreaker? Fine, get out of here Larry, you can never, ever return!"

"Send my stuff back to me ok? I can't be bothered picking it up before leaving."

"Suuure I'll send your stuff over Larry, now scram, the Boat of Losers awaits!"

Chris stands on the Dock of Shame and the Boat of Losers with Larry on board can be seen sailing away from the docks. He is surrounded by what looks very suspiciously like Larry's robotics equipment "That's the end of lazy Larry, kinda figured he wouldn't get very far anyway. Will the schemes ever stop? Will Larry ever get his stuff back? And who would be so evil as to suggest that I steal it? These questions may or may not be answered next time on Total Drama OUTRAGE!"

* * *

Lying alone on the roof of his cabin, Everett finally removed his sunglasses and gazed up at the stars.


	4. Chap 4: Outrageously Bad Service Part 1

**Total Drama Outrage**

**Chapter 4: Outrageously Bad Service**

**Outside Killer Critics Cabin: Early Morning**

Lauren's mural was really taking shape in the days she'd been able to work on it. Admittedly she called herself a fast artist but managing to nearly cover the entire cabin within the brief windows she'd been permitted to work on it was still impressive. Since they'd had a couple day's refuge from challenges she'd hoped to have more time to work on the mural but Donovan was the major obstacle to that plan since he almost never left the cabin other than at meal times and would often shout at her for disturbing him. Lauren hadn't let his negativity affect the tone of her art however, the outside walls of the cabin had still been painted to reflect cheerful scenes like open fields and sun warmed beaches. At the moment she'd just climbed a ladder up onto the roof to see if she could paint a pattern that could be seen from the sky when Chris or anyone else flew past when she noticed someone was sleeping up there.

Everett was curled up in a sleeping bag; his was cap gone setting his tangled hair free but his mirrored sunglasses were still in place, though slightly askew as though they'd been clumsily put back on in the dark. There was no alarm system like he'd had inside the cabin, his defences had been reduced to a circle of salt he'd drawn around himself, though what he thought that would protect him from was unknown. At first Lauren thought he was still asleep but upon closer inspection she could tell there was something wrong with his breathing, it was irregular and overdramatic, like someone who was only clumsily pretending to be asleep. Lauren frowned at him curiously. "I don't mind if you want to paint the roof," she said mildly, "you didn't need to sneak up here in the dead of night though, you could have just asked me."

"Wah?" Everett muttered incoherently and made a big production of pretending he was only just waking up right now, complete with stretching and a long yawn. "I didn't sneak up here in the dead of the night," he finally replied, "didn't you know I live up here?"

"Really? Seems an odd sort of place to live, with perfectly good beds and all inside," using the term 'perfectly good' to describe the beds at Camp Wawanakwa was a bit of a stretch of the imagination but they were probably preferable to sleeping on the roof.

"Beds are overrated," said Everett a touch defensively, "besides; I like the views up here. Haven't you ever slept under the night sky?"

"Once, after the roof of my house was ripped off by a hurricane, it wasn't very pleasant."

"Well the view wouldn't have been very good during a hurricane anyway."

"Doesn't mean the night sky wasn't there though, so I have slept under it. It can't be very secure up here either; you don't have any of alarms up here." Everett scowled at that comment; the lack of alarms was obviously a sore spot with him.

"Most of my security equipment security has gone missing," complained Everett, "I have three main suspects. Aliens, the government and Donovan."

"It was probably the aliens," mused Lauren dreamily, before glancing down just in time to see a confused looking Heidi poking her head out the window. "Morning Heidi."

"Morning Lauren, were you talking to yourself about aliens?"

"No just talking to Everett," she explained, "he lives on the roof."

"You only just noticed? He's been up there since the night of the first challenge; you can always hear him walking around up there muttering stuff."

"As if! This is a stealth operation; no one is supposed to know that I'm up here!" insisted Everett, having finally left his sleeping bag and ventured to the edge of the roof to join the conversation. "And I sleep with one eye open," he added, like that changed anything; even if you ignored the fact his sunglasses with reduce his vision anyway.

"That sounds awfully unhealthy," said Lauren, "I imagine you'd get terrible eyestrain."

"Oh Everett's always terrible," joked Heidi, "he's just a regular monster up there, howling at the moon at everything."

"That was Wolf and you know it! She's in your cabin, you can ask her right now," demanded Everett, entirely missing the joke. Unfortunately Heidi decided to play along and roused Wolf from where she was curled up in the corner and dragged the wild girl over to the window.

"Ok Wolfy, Everett's just blamed you for howling at the moon, are you responsible or not?" Wolf seemed to ponder the question for several long seconds before she just gave a noncommittal bark that could have meant yes or no. It was at that moment that Marshall chose to leave the Screaming Fans cabin and spotted the strange scene. Lauren most of the way up a ladder, leaning her elbows on the rooftop while Everett was balanced precariously on the edge of the roof and Heidi speaking to Wolf, both of whom had their heads hanging out the window.

"Ah," Marshall blinked sleepily, "I see now why he says you're all part of the crazy train."

"Who says that?" wondered Lauren, "the Grizzly Bear? After Everett attacked him?"

"No, Chance," replied Marshall, "he doesn't much seem to like anyone, especially Alice because he claims that she cheats at cards even more than he does."

"I am not crazy," protested Heidi, "next time you see Chance tell that I'll_"

"What?" Chance emerged from the Screaming Fans cabin and moved to stand beside Marshall, "you'll try to kill me like you keep doing to Donovan? I'd say you're definitely crazy. A right homicidal maniac in fact."

"Homicide?" Heidi smirked, "that sounds like a job for Stacey to handle, I should wake her up shouldn't I?" pretty much everyone simultaneously shouted NO but it was too late, Heidi was already calling Stacey. "Oh STACEY! There are criminals consorting out here!" she and Wolf quickly ducked back away from the window before Stacey burst out of her cabin, her eyes raking over the scene suspiciously.

"The gangster and his hired thug, lurking outside," she started on Marshall and Chance before moving to take in the rest of the scene and stopped upon seeing Lauren and Everett. "That's reckless endangerment! Theft of construction supplies, both of you get down from that roof right away before I arrest the both of you!" Between Heidi's shouting and Stacey's angry ranting, it was enough to finally provoke a response from Matthew who burst out of his cabin wildly swinging a baseball bat at thin air. "Unlawful possession of a weapon," now Stacey was rounding on him for his trouble.

"This is a baseball bat! It's a piece of sporting equipment! I HATE it when people falsely accuse me of stuff."

"It's a piece of sporting equipment being used a weapon," insisted Stacey, "that makes all the difference in the eyes of the law."

"Why don't you get on Cynthia's back?" asked Marshall, "you know the girl with actual weapon?"

"The princess is still having her beauty sleep," Stacey complained sourly, "doesn't she realise Chris will be here to drag us off to some madhouse challenge any minute now?"

"Actually Chris is waiting for us to discover the challenge," announced Alice, seemingly appearing out of nowhere looking as unearthly as usual. "Though I suspect he'll get bored of waiting if we leave it long enough."

"Oh great psychic, you must tell us where to go!" said Chance sarcastically, "we'd be lost without your powers."

"The mess hall," replied Alice, ignoring Chance's sarcasm, "you can all go if you want but only one needs to go in order for Chris to announce the challenge."

"It's some kind of ambush!" declared Everett, finally down from the roof, "I wouldn't go anywhere near the mess hall if I were you."

"So your list of fears has grown to include breakfast? Or is it places of food service?" everyone turned about to look as Donovan appeared from the Killer Critics Cabin, all the talking outside finally drawing his attention. "Just as strength can grow, so too can weakness and your paranoia will consume you until you are incapable of movement."

"Everett's not the one who should be afraid!" Heidi suddenly reappeared in the window, pointing angrily at Donovan, "Sic him Wolf!" Surprisingly enough Wolf actually followed the instruction, leaping out the window and slowly advancing on Donovan, snarling the whole time.

"Your aggression is tempered only by your cowardice," said Donovan, looking at Heidi, "the mark of a sneak and an assassin. I do not wish to fight Wolf, but I will not submit to your attempt on my life."

"There will be no fighting here," stated Marshall calmly, before throwing a stick in the air over Wolf's head. The wild girl was immediately distracted and bounded off after it. Heidi pouted at him in disappointment.

"Spoilsport," she complained, "Wolf would have torn him apart and he couldn't accuse me of trying to murder him ever again."

"Isn't killing someone because you're sick of being accused of trying to kill them kind of counterproductive?" asked Lauren.

"Nobody will kill anybody on my watch!" announced Stacey, "I'm not going to let the crime rate escalate any further than it already has on this cursed island."

"See, when Marshall says something like that, he actually does something about it," pointed out Chance, "and you've done nothing other than cause a nuisance for everyone. Which in the end makes you no better than Matthew."

"Of course she isn't better than me," bragged Matthew, mistaking Chance's words for a compliment, "I am the master of rage, a modern berserker."

"You are nothing!" spat Donovan, glaring at anyone who looked like they wanted to continue speaking. "Green-haired one, you claim to have powers, tell me of Mclean's plans for today."

"You'd already know if you'd gotten out of bed earlier," answered Alice, "to begin the challenge at least one of us must head to the mess hall. Do you want to wake the others? Who are we waiting for? Cynthia, Sandra, Isaac and Billy are still missing from our team.

"Gather your forces if you will, the Killer Critics will not wait for Wolf to return or for Maria to wake up."

"Wolf's our leader," pointed out Lauren, "we can't leave without her, and Maria is the only one of us who passed yesterday."

"Wolf is not a leader and the monotonous one just got lucky," argued Donovan, "we will not_"

"I'm sick of this," interrupted Marshall, "you can all hang around here and argue yourselves silly, I'll start the challenge." Marshall abruptly broke into a run, bolting for the mess hall as if his very life depended on it. Donovan moved to go after him, either intent on stopping him or joining him but he didn't get far before Chance stepped into his way.

"Screaming Fans might get an advantage if a member of our team arrives first," he said, "I'd advise you to stay in place." Donovan looked the card shark over, critically assessing his opponent before snorting derisively.

"You fight with words and trickery, there is no way you can stop me when I decide a course of action," arguably Donovan had already stopped to discuss this but no one brought it up.

"He'll stop you with my help," answered Matthew, still wielding his baseball bat as he stepped up to stand beside Chance.

"Interesting," muttered Alice, "but you aren't even on our team."

"I know, but I HATE Donovan!"

"Oh dear, has Matthew turned his coat?" asked Lauren, "Am I supposed to be angry at him?"

"Huh? I didn't know Matthew's hoodie was reversible," said Heidi, "it still looks the same though."

"No, a turn coat is a traitor," explained Everett, "nothing to do with reversible jackets or whatever you're on about."

"Fools!" growled Donovan, "I must not allow Matthew to indulge in his rage, I will not force the issue today." Much to everyone's surprise Donovan did actually turn around and walk back in the Killer Critic's Cabin without comment.

"He's lucky, I was just about to step in and arrest all of you for inciting a brawl," warned Stacey. The attention of the gathered cabins was suddenly drawn over to the Screaming Fans Cabin as Cynthia strolled out; looking as unruffled as ever with her cane tapping a steady beat ahead of her. She arched an eyebrow as she gazed on the scene in front of her.

"I'm rather of the opinion that I've just missed something most interesting," she said sadly, "I don't suppose any of you would be kind enough to fill me in on the recent events?" The resulting cacophony of voices as pretty much everyone tried to give their version of events was deafening and explained very little. As always, things made very little sense at Camp Wawanakwa.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Donovan: Fighting Matthew would only have worsened his problem with anger. If he suffered a defeat I imagine his anger would only double and that wouldn't lead him down the path of stability. Unless of course he was so enraged that his anger finally burnt out? It is something to think on.**

**Cynthia: I think I should have specified that only one person should answer at a time, I didn't get much sense out of that. There was something about Everett living on a roof, a monster howling at the moon, a homicide investigation and a crazy train. I wish I hadn't asked now.**

**Sandra: I wasn't asleep, as if anyone could sleep through that! No, I just stayed in the cabin so I didn't have to experience an overdose of lunacy this early in the morning. **

**Billy: **Yawns and rubs sleep out of his eyes **Sure was peaceful and quiet out there this morning, I slept like a log.**

* * *

**Mess Hall**

When Marshall reached the Mess Hall, Chris wasn't there, nor was Chef or any of the interns. In fact the main entrance was completely boarded up and emblazoned with huge red spray-painted X. A sheet of paper was stuck to the wall beside the now completely sealed entrance, held in place by one of Chef's carving knives. Marshall cautiously approached the paper to read its contents, wary of traps the whole way.

_By Order of the Food Safety Authority the Mess Hall of Camp Wawanakwa has been seized and its previous owner has been evicted from the premises and will be held in custody until his trial for Crimes Against Cuisine and Attempted Murder of Minors by way of Improper Food preparation is complete. This action has been taken in response to extreme violations of the policy and conventions that cover the field of hospitality and catering._

There was the sound of what might have been a giant mosquito buzzing above Marshall followed by a wave of heat and a brief clicking noise. That was all the warning the young martial artist needed to take evasive action, hurling himself sideways and rolling low across the grass. A split second later a spherical projectile tore through the air where Marshall had been standing and struck the Notice of Seizure. The projectile, revealing itself to be one Chef's Extra Spicy Meatballs splattered the notice with insanely spicy hot sauce and with a sibilant hiss the paper dissolved as if doused in acid. When Marshall chanced a glance skyward his assailant was revealed to be Chris Mclean, hovering with his jetpack and wielding a massive scoped meatball bazooka.

"No fair," he complained, "why'd they have to send someone athletic!? You ruined my shot dude, not cool at all."

"You wanted to burn a contestant with flaming meatballs from hell?" asked Marshall incredulously, "that's blatant even by your standards."

"Are you kidding me? I'm the very picture of subtlety, besides, severe burns are tame," replied Chris before he tapped the side of his rebel helmet and activated the microphone within it. When he spoke again his words boomed out from the numerous speakers around the island. "Breakfast has been cancelled indefinitely after some whiny suits said the standard of food here was criminal and dragged Chef off to a secure location. Report to the mess hall pronto for the low down on today's challenge. Oh and if were you I'd hurry, because I'm going to be firing flaming meatballs at Marshall until all of you arrive."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" groaned Marshall. Chris shook his head and grinned sadistically, raising his bazooka and peering down the sight.

"Nope."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Sandra: Oh really, Chef's been locked up? I totally believe that. At least they didn't pretend Chris was dead again, maybe they realised that probably wouldn't have motivated anyway to investigate.**

**Donovan: I should have been the one to face such a trial, I feel no pain.**

**Isaac: This is it! I told you Chef was infected with the zombie virus, they've moved him to quarantine and now Chris is probably going to have us hunting down zombified animals. I've been training for this all my life.**

**Maria: No breakfast? Geez Mclean, you sure know how to make my day, Good riddance to bad rubbish, or in this case, Chef, wherever it is Chris has locked him up. He'll be back of course, hanging around like a bad smell, then again, something always smells bad around here. Probably a side effect of having the confessional in an OUTHOUSE!** The flies buzzing around her head fall out of the sky in shock.

**Billy: I bet we'll be busting Chef out of prison for our challenge, meaning I've got a huge advantage. I've done my fair share of prison breaks let me tell you. From POW Camps obviously, what do you take me for? Some kind of criminal? I'm a war hero!**

* * *

**Sometime Later: Outside the Mess Hall**

By the time every camper was assembled outside the mess hall, much of the grass had been burnt away into scorched craters from which an acrid smoke was still rising. The repellent odour afflicted the contestants with a sensation that felt like thousands of angry spiders were running about their nasal passages. Thousands of angry spiders all which had burning embers stuck to their eight legs that is. Marshall stood unharmed in the midst of this destruction, looking slightly sweaty but no worse for wear despite Chris' blatant attempt to burn him to cinders. The arrival of the other campers finally hailed the end of Chris Mclean's fiery assault and he whirled around to face them and Marshall rushed over to lose himself in the crowd.

"About time you slackers showed up," groused Chris, "you think I enjoy waiting around for you? I'm the important person here; you're supposed to be waiting for me!"

"Whatever Mclean, can you just get on with pretending we need to break Chef out of jail?" asked Sandra.

"I was thinking we might have some court related challenged to defend him actually," suggested Cynthia.

"Well you're both wrong, and you will always be wrong, because you aren't me, too bad losers. I have no idea where Chef is, my sources tell me that he was moved to one of the surrounding islands and the interns are currently leading an exhaustive search for him."

"A Google Search is more like it," cracked Chance, realising too late that he probably shouldn't antagonise the man armed with a flaming meatball bazooka. The hair obsessed host quickly aimed his weapon at Chance, opening fire. Matthew appeared as if out of thin air and swung his baseball bat into the path of the projectile. The bat snapped in two with a loud a crack and the meatball ploughed into ground, rapidly burning a crater into the ground and melting the fallen half of the bat. Matthew was left clutching half of a baseball bat, staring bemusedly at the empty space where the weapon he'd been using all morning had been. Chris quickly recovered from this unforeseen series of events and acted like he'd meant to do that all along.

"No weapons on the island," he told Matthew, ignoring how ridiculous that sounded when he was holding a bazooka, "you could have hurt someone with that, dude."

"Cynthia has a weapon too, you better destroying it right away," ordered Stacey, "and tell Wolf to file down her teeth, they look like fangs for pity's sake."

"Weeeell I was going to do something about Cynthia's sword cane but because you told me to and I'm a rebel I'll have to decline, now can we move on here? Before I run out of ammo for the only thing I was actually supposed to use this bazooka for?" When he received no further complaints, with all the camper's eyes focussed on the bazooka he was waving around dangerously, he continued. "You lot are always whining about Chef's food and Chef's always whining have to cook for you ungrateful maggots so today I'll kill two birds with one bazooka. The mess hall is no more; instead, I welcome you to Camp Wawanakwa's two new restaurants; Scream of Disgust and Killer Food Poisoning," Chris fired off two more shots, hitting two different spots at opposite ends of the mess hall wall. Strips of paper designed to match the wall behind them melted away on impact, revealing two new doors, one blue and the other green.

"What hell is in the meatball sauce?" asked Isaac, sounding impressed, "I could use some of that."

"Oh just little bit of toxic blood from highly irradiated mutant animals, you'd be amazed at how many recipes require ingredients from mutant animals. Now, since the mess hall has been closed down and I'd rather not fill out the paperwork to get reopened, I called in some construction teams to renovate the place. What was the mess hall has now been split in two, two dining areas and two kitchens, separated by a dividing wall. Today you will be setting these restaurants up and staging a grand opening for dinner tonight."

"Is this some convoluted plan to get all of us arrested for using Chef's toxic food supplies so you can just take the million for yourself?" asked Sandra, "because there is no way I'm falling for that."

"Unfortunately the suits who dragged Chef away destroyed all his food stores stating that they were a biohazard, uh, not that I would ever do anything like that anyway," said Chris, looking exceedingly shifty. "Down at the beach you will find a stockpile of furniture and art supplies. You'll need a sign and menus obviously, oh and the construction crews sort of left a mess in there so you'll need to clear that out before you move furniture in there to set up your dining rooms. Oh and keep in mind when you plan your menus, you actually need to be able to cook the stuff on it. Some fresh food will be delivered by an extremely reliable service sometime soon and I'll update with you with further information for the challenge later in the day. Now scram, I've got important host business to attend to."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Lauren: Of course I'm going to straight to the beach, I need to personally select the art supplies I'm going to be using, I couldn't trust anyone else to do it. Hmm, how to depict the concept of Killer Food Poisoning?**

**Sandra: Clear out construction supplies? As if, I'll just melt them down with acid. Then again, the toxic fumes might detract from the dining experience, looks like we're doing this the hard way after all. **

**Matthew: Stuff the beach, I need to loot all those abandoned construction supplies from inside in order to forge a new weapon in the fires of the great forge, uh, oven. I shouldn't have ragequit that tutorial on crafting when I was playing Triple Rage Demonic Onslaught; I just wanted to get straight into the demon slaying you know? **

**Chance: The beach will be a madhouse with people brawling over the supplies, I've got to get down there and place some bets on who'll win.**

* * *

**The Beach**

Chris Mclean and his team had turned to the beach into an eerie graveyard of furniture and other assorted items. It looked as though a cargo ship had wrecked nearby and a primitive tribe had used the washed up materials to build twisted structures. There was a mountain of tables of all shapes and sizes piled together, square tables, rectangular tables, circular tables, slightly pentagonal tables, you name it. There was similar arrangement with seating, dining chairs, stools, benches and armchairs all fought for space along the sand with no organisation whatsoever. Littered amongst these bizarre monuments of furniture were other miscellaneous items, tins of paint, rolls of wallpaper, statues, pot plants and dozens of paintings of Chris Mclean. In short, Chris had gone out of his way to make it as difficult as possible to find what you were looking for.

Speaking of the thoroughly demented reality show host, Chris hovered over the beach on his jetpack, smirking at the campers who had chosen to head there instead of trying to deal with whatever mess Chris had left in their new 'restaurants'. "Welcome to the place furniture comes to die," he announced, "You know those pirates I bought my boats from? They do other jobs as well, namely fetching all this stuff for me. Don't blame me if you find damaged goods or stolen property. They were offering bargain rates, and hey, somebody has to support the piracy industry right?"

"No! Pirates are criminals and by hiring them for job you are funding crime, you better turn yourself in to the nearest police station right now," demanded Stacey, as though Chris cared about the law in the slightest.

"How about noooooooooooooo," replied Chris, "can you stop with all that legal stuff? Geez, I knew I should have gotten that deranged arsonist on the show instead."

"Are you just here to confess to various crimes or do you actually have something relevant to say about the challenge?" asked Marshall, "because you're holding us up."

"Oh I'm holding you up? Excuse me; do you have a massage scheduled in ten minutes? I don't think so!" fumed Chris, "Just came here to tell you that none of this stuff is above the tideline so it'll probably all get swept off to sea if you don't hurry up and get what you need."

"Applying pressure by way of a time limit," observed Donovan, "worsening by every second you delay us."

"Yeah, whatever the Hulk said," agreed Chris absently, "get on with it, I'm going for my massage now." Chris hurtled away through the sky to prepare himself for his impending massage, leaving the campers to warily approach the abandoned furniture and sort through it. Lauren ignored the furniture for the time being and moved over to examine an arrangement of paint tins.

"A lot of poisons are colourless aren't they?" she mused, "but I can hardly paint the restaurant clear though. I can't do toxic green either because that's the other team's colour. Sometimes poisons form crystals but I don't think there's anything like that around here." Chance snorted in derision as he walked past.

"This place is probably littered with broken glass knowing Chris; feel free to use some of that for crystals."

"I don't think I'd like to dig around looking for broken glass, thanks for the suggestion though."

"No worries, and while I'm giving out free advice, you might want to keep an eye on your teammate Wolf, I've got no idea what she's doing right now." Wolf had scaled a pile of furniture and was currently howling at the open sky. A bird flying above her shrilled in response and Wolf nodded intently as if the random bird call held great meaning to her. She reached down and tried to rip out what looked like a solid gold throne out of the pile. Her efforts succeeded in disturbing several other pieces of furniture, all of which came tumbling down to rain around Donovan, the giant once again narrowly avoiding injury.

"Before you say a single word, I had _nothing _to do with that," said Heidi, who happened to be passing by on the leisurely stroll she was taking around the beach.

"Wolf follows your orders, only this morning you ordered her to attack me, this is your doing red haired one."

"My name is Heidi!" she lunged over to the nearest pile wrenched out a silver candlestick holder, hurling it right at Donovan's head. There was a blur of movement and Marshall was there to almost lazily catch it out of the air before it could reach Donovan.

"How many fights am I going to have to break up today?" he asked exasperatedly. "Can you all just calm the hell down?" In the midst of all this, Lauren had finally selected the colour of paint she was after and strolled over to Heidi.

"Strange, I didn't know you were here at the beach Heidi, have you left Maria alone to stop Everett and Matthew from destroying the whole building?" she asked curiously.

"I only came here so I could walk along the beach," said Heidi, "besides the restaurants have probably been trashed by Mclean's goons so even Matthew and Everett can't make things much worse in there."

"See, that's why it's always a nuisance splitting up the teams," interjected Chance, "we had to bring Isaac with us otherwise he'd still be brawling with Billy. Alice claimed that she saw a vision proclaiming she shouldn't go near the beach and of course Sandra had to stay behind to stop her from pulling, 'psychic nonsense."

"And we all know that _Lady_ Cynthia simply does not lift furniture," added Stacey, "probably sitting back at the restaurant ordering people around. By the way, tell Wolf to stop mucking around with the golden throne, it'll be great for that egomaniac Chris."

"Our team found it first," growled Donovan, "if you wish to take it from us, you will have to fight for it." Marshall rubbed his temples in annoyance, was it really too much to ask that people just collected what they needed and left.

"Here we go again," he muttered gloomily, waiting to see which contestants were going to attempt to murder each other once again.

* * *

**Killer Food Poisoning**

When Matthew entered the new Killer Food Poisoning restaurant looking for a weapon he was certainly spoiled for choice. Other than mountains of sawdust, collapsed scaffolding and abandoned workbenches, there were tools all over the place. Hammers, saws, shovels, hell, someone had even abandoned a wrecking ball in the middle of the room. He eventually decided on a weapon that would have decent range and went in search of a discarded metal beam, hoping to attach a blade of some sort to the end of one. Everett meanwhile was stationed by the door with a shovel, carelessly hurling out piles of sawdust. He was in the middle of this task when a great gust of wind (AKA Chris Mclean with a giant mechanical fan) whirled through the entrance, caught the sawdust Everett had shovelled out the door and blasted it right into the searching Matthew.

"Everett you flaming twit!" he spluttered, choking on sawdust, "throw that stuff at me again and I'll throw you out the door!" Everett spun around to face Matthew and for a curious moment he gazed at his teammate in absolute confusion, as if he did not recognise him at all. The confusion quickly fled in exchange for a look of pure terror and Everett hurled himself into the pile of sawdust in a rather ridiculous attempt to conceal himself. If Matthew thought this was strange he didn't show it, instead he threw back his head and laughed an outrageously fake evil laugh like the ones in the old horror movies. "I am death and destruction!" he announced proudly.

"Yeah well could you destroy some of the mess Mclean's lunatic construction crew left in here?" asked Maria from where she was sitting on a workbench, attempting to draft a menu in a notebook. "You know, something useful."

"Don't get on my back," protested Matthew, "Everett's the one taking a nap in a pile of sawdust." Everett chose that moment to emerge, covered head to toe in sawdust as he stumbled free from the mountain. He wiped desperately at his face until his sunglasses became visible once more before resuming his lurching walk around the room, looking like a living pile of sawdust wearing sunglasses.

"Snap out of it Everett!" snapped Maria, "it's not Halloween yet ok?" Everett shook himself like a wet dog until most of the sawdust rained down around him, sending him into a hacking coughing fit. "And now he's dying," Maria groaned, "great, just great."

"No, I'm fine," said Everett when he eventually recovered, "I just got a little confused is all, thought something else was happening."

"The end of the world?" suggested Matthew, "because that's what I'll unleash if you throw any more sawdust at me."

"I didn't throw sawdust at you," insisted Everett, "it was the wind, and you weren't even there, it hit the other guy." Matthew and Maria carefully scanned the room, confirming that there was no 'other guy' and that Everett had lost his marbles. When neither of them could think of a response to this, Everett just shrugged and went back to shovelling saw dust out the door. Matthew momentarily forgot his quest for a new weapon and settled on breaking a workbench into manageably disposable pieces with a sledge hammer he had located lying amongst a pile of drop sheets.

"Do either of you know how I'm supposed to spell that word catchatory?" asked Maria breaking the relative silence as the others worked. "You know, like chicken catchatory? Ugh, I don't even know if I'm pronouncing it right." Everett snorted over from where he was working, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Shouldn't you know you how to spell that? With all the time you spend programming recipes into your legion of cooking androids."

"I don't program cooking androids, I think human chefs would have a problem with that."

"Oh sure, name one famous chef who isn't an android."

"How about I name all of them because none of them are androids?"

"I suppose your programming prevents you from identifying your fellow android models."

"No!" Maria sighed and looked up at the ceiling, "what did I ever do to have to put with stuff like this?"

"Signed up for Total Drama Outrage," said Matthew, "I only joined because I knew it would be great for making my anger issues even worse! How's that for a motivation?"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Maria: Really. Freaking. Terrible. That's how it is for a motivation. Who wants to make their anger issues worse? You're supposed to try and get better once you acknowledge them aren't you?**

* * *

**Scream of Disgust**

"Trust me guys," Billy was in the middle of one of his usual loads of nonsense, "you know what they called me back in the war?"

"Nothing," replied Sandra, who was busy collecting everything flammable so she could destroy them all once in a huge bonfire. "Since you were never in a war. Or the army for that matter." Billy pretended he hadn't heard her and continued on as usual.

"The Siege Engine, because I could break any fortification, smash through any defence."

"Truly? I dare say that they have artillery and airstrikes for that sort of thing. Seems awfully more efficient than sending lone soldiers to break through walls and such," said Cynthia as she paced around the room with a stick of chalk, marking where things should go when they arrived from the beach.

"Ha! You know nothing of warfare," insisted Billy, "I can easily demonstrate my abilities in the art of demolition." Alice cleared her throat to catch his attention before delivering one of her psychic warnings.

"If you attempt to shatter that scaffolding with a shoulder charge I fear you will break instead, please do not attempt such a thing." As she did pretty much every time Alice opened her mouth, Sandra scoffed and made irritated noises.

"What are you doing anyway little miss psychic? Summoning a legion of fairies to do the work for you?"

"I am envisioning the completed restaurant from the future so that I may guide you to create it in the present," explained Alice, "it requires intense concentration."

"Did you guys hear about that secret program where the army was trying to train psychics?" started Billy.

"Yes and I'm rather certain you had no part whatsoever in the proceedings, one psychic on this team is quite enough," said Cynthia.

"No, there a no psychics on this team" insisted Sandra, "because there is no such thing. There is a deranged scam artist here however."

"If I wasn't such a powerful psychic your scepticism and hostility would have a negative effect on my powers," said Alice, "fortunately I am beyond such mortal constraints as anti-social behaviour and I foresee that we shall soon be interrupted."

"It's that Isaac joker isn't it?" demanded Billy, "he's going to charge in here and challenge me to mortal combat," the blatant liar seized a broken chair leg and whirled it around in the air experimentally. "I'm ready for him."

"No, the interruption will come from the sky," Alice informed him casually, before closing her eyes and resuming her meditation. "There will be a sound so great that it will shake the very earth, the birds will cry in alarm and take flight and the oceans will foam and boil. The sun shall turn dark and the world will be plunged into eternal night forevermore. Foul things will rise out from the shadows; surge out from where they have lurked in the dark recesses of your most terrifying nightmares."

"Really?" asked Cynthia, "that's rather extreme, even for Chris Mclean."

"Not really, I just felt like saying that," Alice gave a musical laugh and rose to her feet, "I never get much of a chance to make world ending prophecies."

"Yes, there does tend to be a rather short window for those sorts of things, I must say," agreed Cynthia pleasantly, not disturbed in the slightest by Alice's rather bizarre behaviour. "Not to mention that most fortune tellers wouldn't get much repeat business if they kept foretelling the impending apocalypse."

"Oh I don't charge for the use of my psychic gift, that would be tacky," Alice suddenly started purposefully walking towards the door of their restaurant.

"And just what do you think you're doing," asked Sandra, "you can't be taking a break already, you haven't even done anything other than meditate."

"I'm simply going to collect the food Chris promised us, it will be rather hard to plan a menu without knowing what supplies we have available," ignoring the fact that Maria was trying to do exactly that right next door.

"An interruption from the sky, food," Billy paced back and forth, joining the dots, "military supply airdrop! Luring us outside before a rain of incendiary bombs, hit the deck!" He hurled himself under the scaffolding he had previously been trying unsuccessfully to destroy for several minutes. Before anyone, namely Sandra, could him or Alice idiots, there was the sound of roaring engines followed by several loud thumps of heavy objects landing after falling from a great height. "Nobody move everything outside it about to be lit up like fourth of the July."

"I hope so," grumbled Sandra, "since I've been throwing heaps of the rubbish out there, incinerating the lot would be the first useful thing to happen all day."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Sandra: I would say the first useful thing to happen all season but we did win the last challenge so that lazy guy Larry was eliminated. Even with his alliance with Isaac, he wasn't much of threat but his absence stills gives our team a number advantage for this challenge.**

* * *

**Outside the Mess Hall**

Contrary to Billy's fears, the area outside the building was not promptly incinerated by incendiary bombs. The crates that had been dropped from the sky by a suspicious looking passenger jet passing overhead were in fact filled with fresh food and not a trap designed to lure campers outside to certain death. Still, even if most of those within the two restaurants didn't believe there were bombs out there, Chris Mclean was still pure evil and so Alice was the only one brave enough to venture outside.

"It's only crates of food like I said," Alice assured her teammates, shouting back through the door, "there's only one reality in which the crates are actually filled with poisonous vipers and I'm fairly sure it's not this one."

"Unfortunately not," Chris Mclean hovered into view of his jetpack, thankfully unarmed this time around. "I was tempted to put vipers in one of the crates but our whole shipment of them got lost in the woods somewhere in a freak accident." Alice arched an eyebrow curiously; apparently her psychic powers hadn't told her anything about that.

"In what way exactly was the accident freakish? I thought I would have detected any unnatural occurrences."

"No, I just meant that all the interns who ended up gravely injured were total freaks of nature, therefore it was a freak accident. Anyway, can the rest of you cowering in your restaurants get out here now so I don't have to give the whole announcement just to a green haired weirdo?" The others who had remained behind filed outside, with the exception of Everett who had to be dragged out by Matthew and Maria while he muttered incessantly about 'Roswell' and 'weather balloons'.

"Ugh, can we send Everett to the infirmary?" asked Maria, "his mental state has gone from bad to worse."

"Ok, firstly, don't interrupt me," snapped Chris, despite the fact he hadn't even been speaking when Maria started, "and secondly, no, you cannot take Everett to the infirmary. With the imprisonment of Chef we found ourselves without a nurse. I'm sure Everett will be fine; I couldn't possibly think what could cause a problem with his behaviour," Chris didn't sound overly sincere, in fact a sadistic smirk crossed his face that suggested he knew exactly what was causing Everett's behaviour but since he did that all the time no one saw fit to comment on it. "As you may have noticed, the food has arrived, geez, I didn't actually think those pirates I hired would actually steal a plane to deliver the stuff," he shrugged, "not my problem anyway. Feel free to fight over the food you want or wait for you teammates to get back and stage a brawl, whatever works for you."

"I'm sure we'll all be able to reach some sort of peaceful compromise over who gets what," said Cynthia, a touch optimistically.

"I HATE compromise!" roared Matthew, "I will seize all food that are capable of inducing rage." Cynthia just frowned at him in confusion.

"Are you saying you want all the jalapenos? Because tend to get angry when they accidentally eat those."

"I haven't put any dish involving jalapenos on the menu," said Maria, "and I don't intend to so you can just ignore pretty much everything Matthew says."

"Good luck with that," sneered Chris, "I've got places to be, get back to work slackers, who said you could have a break?" Chris soared off into the distance, ignoring the angry protests that they had only stopped work because he'd turned up. "I love this job, I really do."

* * *

**The Same Location: Several Hours Later**

With everything not salvaged from the beach swept out to sea by the rising tide, and most likely destroyed by the mutants lurking out there, all campers had returned to their new restaurants by now. Their efforts had turned the area outside the mess hall into what resembled what one might see if the objects in a furniture store gained sentience and warred against each other. Numerous tools lay scattered amidst the remnants of wood and metal they had been used to destroy, a sharpened curtain rod had been driven into the ground like a javelin and there was a mountainous heap of ash with various pieces of charred construction supplies jutting out of it, implying a massive bonfire had taken place. The food crates had been completely emptied and left abandoned in the fields, apparently no one was willing to bet that Chris wouldn't come back and suddenly destroy the lot without warning.

The only way you could tell that the building wasn't the same old mess hall and debris outside was just from one of Chef's rampages or Chris' mad challenges was new signs and artwork that decorated the front of each separate restaurant.

The Screaming Fans had decided to run with the name of their restaurant and painted a giant gaping mouth around the door. The door itself had been painted white and made part of a speech bubble which predictably was just filled in with 'AHHHHHHHHHHHH' in bold letters. Above this screaming mouth was the name of the restaurant: Scream of Disgust, written in crudely painted green letters, designed to look as though slime was dripping off them. Actually it wasn't just the letters that were crudely painted to be honest; the whole thing was kind of shoddy since Billy, claiming to be a master artisan, had painted the whole thing himself. No one had been out there to supervise him since Cynthia had refused to go near the paint; Sandra had insisted it was probably lead-based and unsafe and Alice claimed that the fumes made her head ache. Stacey had some excuse about needing to stay inside to supervise the kitchen knives, Isaac wasn't allowed near Billy in case the two fought again and Chance and Marshall thought they could be of more use setting up the dining room.

In contrast, the work performed by Lauren for the Killer Critics was finely detailed, probably something to do with the fact she was an actual artist and members of her team had been sent to help her. Namely Everett and Wolf who Donovan had selected on the grounds that noxious paint fumes probably wouldn't do them much harm. Lauren had eventually settled on green to represent the poison anyway, but chose a dark murky green that made one think of swamps rather than grassy fields. An ornate glass bottle, stoppered with a cork and coated with dust had been painted over the wall, filled up three quarters with the murky green poison. The door had been painted to resemble a bright red warning label on the front of the bottle, complete with white skull and crossbones. 'Killer Food Poisoning' was written in elegant golden script on the bottle; as if this was a product you'd buy at particularly expensive store.

A battlefield of broken construction supplies, a still smoking bonfire and two rather disturbingly named restaurants? The only missing from the scene was Chris Mclean and he swiftly remedied the problem by hovering into view with his jetpack, this time holding a remote with a big red button. He surveyed the destruction outside the former mess hall with his trademark grin before flashing a double thumbs up to the camera. "Figured they'd get rid of the mess I made by creating an even larger mess right outside," he said, "So I came prepared. Explosives have been ever so carefully planted under this field to ensure the mess hall isn't damaged… maybe!" Laughing maniacally Chris hit the red button and the effect was instantaneous.

There was sort of muffled popping sound like a giant mole sneezing underground and the earth began to tremble like jelly, cracks spider webbing across it an alarming rate. There was the whoosh of escaping air before plumes of fire blossomed out from the cracks. Within seconds this scene was obscured by thick columns of dark smoke that probably would have hung around for the better part of the day if the interns hadn't wheeled out the massive mechanical fan that had previously been used against Alice's incense and blasted it all away. What had once been a construction graveyard was now a gaping crater outside the restaurants, which would make leaving them from the front door rather difficult in future. Chris just hovered there chuckling appreciatively for several seconds before he produced a megaphone and shouted into it.

"Campers, restaurateurs and complete losers, you have _got_ to see what I've done with the place." The door of Killer Food Poisoning opened first as Wolf eagerly emerged to investigate the outside world. She didn't make it far before nearly plummeting over the edge of Chris Mclean's brand new death crater. She whimpered cautiously and backed away from the edge, her behaviour prompting Heidi to follow her outside. The red-haired girl let out a short scream as she too nearly fell into the pit. Perhaps in light of this reaction, the response from the Scream of Disgust was more cautious, a periscope like contraption that Sandra had fashioned with the use of a broken mirror extended out of the door, allowing them to observe the crater before it suddenly withdrew. No Screaming Fans tried to leave the building.

"Don't be such a bunch of babies," taunted Chris, "the ground at the edge of the crater is perfectly stable to stand on," Heidi and Wolf had darted back inside and no one came out to replace them, leaving a yawning silence after Mclean's words. "Come on, I'm Chris Mclean, I talk to people, not buildings, what you think I'm crazy?" There was another long moment of silence before Donovan left Killer Food Poisoning and stood right at the edge of the crater.

"Speak Mclean, the others will hear your words, even if they fear to face the destruction you have wrought," seeing as nobody else looked like they wanted to tempt fate, Chris shrugged and simply addressed Donovan.

"Since we've just got two new five star restaurants here in camp I thought I'd contribute to the luxurious lifestyle you have here, welcome to Lake Wawanakwa!"

"It is just an empty pit," observed Donovan, "do you intend to trick more gullible campers into jumping in there?" Chris frowned and clicked his fingers, looking expectantly down into the crater. Nothing happened.

"Interns! Where's my water? I told you to fill up the crater!" One intern emptied a bucket of water over the side and watched as the pitiful amount of water trickled down into the crater. "There was a whole truck of water! I can't_" Chris was cut off as his phone suddenly rang and he checked the caller. "The producers?" he groaned and answered the phone, "Yes…Of course I know about the pirates in the area… They stole all the water!?" Chris snapped his phone shut and glared furiously at the interns. "You just can't get good help these days, find me some water!" Chris zoomed off with his jetpack, leaving the purpose of the new lake unexplained. Donovan remained by the edge of the crater, staring down into the depths. Perhaps he was waiting for the abyss to look back at him, so he could beat it in a staring contest or something, you never know with Donovan.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Sandra: This is an island Mclean! One does not set off large amounts of explosives unless they want to die! How did we survive that with the whole island sinking? Is this island even real? I mean I've heard some rumours but…**

**Chance: Who wants to bet that lake will be full of gators by nightfall? Losers of this challenge probably get thrown to them; I wouldn't put it past that rat Mclean.**

**Maria: Not only do we get served subpar food here, Chris now wants us to cross a lake before and after each meal. I doubt he'll build a bridge across it somehow, unless he's making us do it. With toothpicks and silly string.**

**Matthew: I don't hate explosions, because they often get rid of things I do hate.**

* * *

**Scream of Disgust**

Chris Mclean's unscheduled and mostly pointless interruption over with, the Screaming Fans were free to get back to work. When Cynthia had been marking out locations she'd assumed that the tables and chairs would all be similar shapes and sizes only to find that wasn't the case at all. People were trying to follow her instructions and woefully failing. Where a chalk outline marked a space for a rectangular table and four chairs, an octagonal monstrosity of a table with a park bench, a bar stool, a beanbag and stuffy armchair for seating had been placed there instead. Cynthia sighed in dismay, watching her carefully drawn design plans totally ruined by the random placement of bizarre furniture.

"Didn't Chris provide any proper furniture befitting a place of fine cuisine?" she asked incredulously, "surely one does not expect sit on a beanbag when they enter a restaurant, or any establishment outside of childcare facility for that matter."

"Wolf and Donovan were being really intimidating and trying to nick the good stuff," explained Isaac, "we could have taken them but Marshall was being all pacifistic and Stacey kept whinging about regulations and stuff."

"I was there to break up fights," interrupted Marshall, "not start them over random pieces of furniture."

"It was a golden throne!"

"Still furniture."

"As if it was actual gold anyway," said Sandra, "most likely some cheap alloy painted to look like gold."

"It still would have been better than a beanbag," reasoned Cynthia before turning around to check on Alice and Stacey who were supposed to piece a menu together from the chaotic assortment of food they randomly seized from the crates. "Are you two making much progress over there?"

"It depends, is toasted lettuce soaked in melted butter a valid meal?" asked Alice.

"Not one that I'd serve to anyone," replied Cynthia with a shudder, "there's plenty of food over there other than lettuce and butter."

"I know, but the lettuce and butter are the only thing that have passed Stacey's police inspection so far so I have to work with that," sure enough when Cynthia looked over at Stacey she saw the aspiring police officers was running some sort of blue light over the food items with a heavy duty flashlight. She met Cynthia's eyes defiantly.

"These could be hiding drugs, or secretly be full of illegal preservatives; no way are they being used for cooking without being tested."

"Oh and I suppose you'll find all this illegal content with your magical Flashlight of Revelations," sneered Sandra, "If you're going to be so ridiculous, I'll sort out the menu instead." Billy seemed to have missed every word she just said with the exception of magical and light and thought this was the perfect opportunity to started one of his nonsensical stories.

"Of course, while I was on my stint over at Area 51 I became quite the expert on unexplained lights," started Billy, "once I was on perimeter patrol with my squad when suddenly that big triangular craft that was seen cruising around Belgium turned up and started doing laser measurements of the base. Obviously I couldn't have any of that sort of rubbish going on so I got out my RPG and_"

"I do not sense the choking void of death that lingers around a killer anywhere in this room," interrupted Alice, "you did not kill any alien life that night." Billy rolled his eyes and spoke to her like she was a simpleton.

"Of course I didn't kill them, the fall from the sky and the resulting explosion is what did them in. I never touched them."

"I should hope you didn't," said Stacey, "since it's a crime to communicate with aliens."

"But it isn't a crime to shot them out of the sky," said Marshall, "there's logic for you."

"Of course you'd shot aliens out of the sky," insisted Isaac, "They'd obviously be here to enslave or destroy us. Why else would they travel all that way?"

"Can we please move on from aliens?" asked Cynthia, "I rather feel they aren't relevant to our challenge or to life in general for that matter. Did any of you bring anything we can use as a reception counter? Every good restaurant has a receptionist to check reservations and keep out unsavoury sorts."

"Namely Chris Mclean and everyone else that tries to get in here," said Chance, "I assume he's going to make us feed a pack of wild animals or something. As for the reception counter, uh we could the school desk I found?" Cynthia buried her face in her hands.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid this restaurant is going to be more like a shambolic soup kitchen than anything else." Chance just snorted dismissively.

"This is Total Drama, you shouldn't be afraid of inevitable."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Chance: Seriously, did she think we were actually going to make a decent restaurant? Chris Mclean wants all this to be a disaster so it'll boost his ratings. No one wants to see a perfect dinner service, they want drama and chaos.**

**Sandra: Chris better not be expecting this place to be ready for service in this millennium. We can't even start preparing food until Stacey stops waving her magic flashlight over it. **

**Isaac: Billy is still telling those stupid stories, well he'll be telling them somewhere else after we kick him off this island tonight. There's nothing wrong with hoping we'll lose to get rid of an annoying link is there? It's not like I'm sabotaging anything.**

* * *

**Killer Food Poisoning**

Maria was dealing with the consequences of trying to write a menu before the food had arrived. Half the dishes she had planned were now impossible and she had to start over. Trying to plan a menu was difficult; doing so in a room full of lunatics trying to set up furniture was proving nigh-impossible. She scribbled out another unintelligible list and tore the page out of her notebook before scrunching it up and hurling it across the room. Everett was in the midst of a heated argument with a fly buzzing around his head and only stopped his furious tirade when the ball of paper bounced off his head. He whirled around in the swivel chair he was currently sitting in, glared wordlessly at a point several feet to Maria's left before picking up the paper and beginning to fold it into a complex. Maria thought it best not to bother even trying to figure out what was wrong with him this time, and cast her eyes over to the far end of the dining room.

Her teammates, well some of them anyway, were down there creating what they called the VIP section, inspired by the golden throne Donovan had brought back. The area was curtained off but Maria already knew there a massive feasting table decked out with silver candlesticks back there. They'd also put some sort of tribal wooden statue back there, because for some reason they believed that weird wooden demons made people feel comfortable. Unfortunately, their progress in the rest of the dining room left a lot to be desired. At the moment thing out there was a blackjack table stolen from a casino and the swivelling computer chair Everett was using as a base from which to make origami and shout at flying insects.

"You guys are going to feel really stupid when Chris just sets a pack of wild elephants loose in here," Maria predicted morbidly, "this is all probably a cruel time wasting joke."

"Don't be such a pessimist Maria," suggest Heidi brightly as she emerged from behind the curtain, "We're going to make this restaurant into a party house."

"Yeah," agreed Maria, "the kind of party where everyone ends up drunk and eats food off a blackjack table," the reason for the blackjack table was still a mystery to her and she suspected that even the person who had found it didn't know why they brought it back. Heidi glanced over at the blackjack table and saw the demented origami structure Everett had just put on it.

"I need more paper," he said seriously, "tell Lauren that I've just had the greatest idea for decorations ever." Heidi strode over and examined his creation, determining only that it didn't appear to be any creature from earth.

"What is this?" she asked Everett, "I've seen any animal like that before."

"What do you mean you haven't seen it before!? Don't you people study cryptozoology at school?"

"Cryptozoawhatnow?"

"The study of animals that are supposedly hidden or undiscovered," explained Maria, "they haven't made it part of the school curriculum for obvious reasons."

"Oh like that Sasquatchanakwa? Why hasn't anyone come around to study him them?"

"Probably because he'd rip them apart as soon as look at them," said Maria, "he isn't very friendly last I checked." It just so happened that the timing of the universe seemed to think that the middle of a discussion about cryptozoology was the perfect time for a sudden bone chilling howl to sound somewhere in the room. Maria and Heidi both couldn't help but jump into the air and Everett fell out of his seat with a startled cry. Wolf burst out from behind the curtain of the VIP section at her usual loping run and crossed the room at an alarmingly rapid rate. With an energetic bound she sprang onto the blackjack table, seized Everett's origami whatchamacallit and made a dash back for the VIP section. Everett had miraculously stumbled back upright and moved to block her.

"That's not a werewolf talisman," he told her severely, "You have no use for it," he reached forward to take it from her hand but she snarled threateningly at him and snapped her teeth, sending him scurrying backwards. "Fine, you keep it."

"The foolish painter is trying to deface the VIP area with demonically grinning dismembered heads," growled Donovan, sticking his head out through the curtains, "Red-haired one, you have knowledge of the dark arts don't you? What foul sorcery is she attempting to invoke?"

"My name is Heidi! And she's trying to paint some smiley faces, that's not a dark art."

"It's an expression of positivity," explained Lauren, also sticking her head out for behind the curtains, her face speckled with yellow paint.

"I HATE smiley faces!" raged Matthew, not bothering to show himself to his teammates.

"Where I come from these bizarre faces observing us eating would ruin the food, cease this behaviour," ordered Donovan, not caring how positive smiley faces were supposed to be.

"I say they're cute," argued Heidi, "kept painting them Lauren," whether she actually believed they were cute or just wanted to antagonise Donovan, the Killer Critics were dragged into a pointless argument on the nature of smiley faces and were going nowhere fast in this challenge.

* * *

**Confessional**

**Wolf: **is waving the winged origami creature she stole from Everett around in the air, making aeroplane noises.

**Donovan: The green-haired one practices precognition and I'm fairly sure the red-haired one has been bewitching various individuals into attacking me. Forgive me for expecting more practitioners of the dark arts to be lurking around. **

**Maria: Donovan was freaking out over a couple of smiley faces? And thought Everett was bad. He is, but you know what I mean.**

* * *

**Out on Lake Wawanakwa (formerly area outside mess hall before Chris blew the place up)**

It had taken indiscriminate use of flaming meatballs to do it, but Chris and his interns had eventually defeated the pirates in a heroic battle and driven them away from the island. Okay, Chris actually spent the whole time hiding under a rock until the pirates stole the meatball bazooka and managed to blow themselves up in a spectacular weapons malfunction. Still, the end result was the same, the stolen water truck had been retrieved and Lake Wawanakwa finally existed the way Chris wanted it to. Not to mention the fact he didn't have to pay the pirates to perform increasingly ridiculous tasks anymore. Anyway, all of that is really beside the point, the important thing to keep in mind is that there was now a lake outside the mess hall and Chris Mclean was currently on it.

The deranged television host was lounging in what was probably a cheap replica of a Venetian gondola. An intern in the traditional striped shirt and boating hat stood at the front, paddling the boat sedately around the lake. Chris languidly reached over and retrieved the megaphone lying on the deck beside him, using it to destroy the peaceful environment as his voice boomed across the lake so the campers inside their restaurants could hear his voice.

"I've filled the lake now, it's perfectly safe for you to come out now," he told them, "and by that I mean all of you need to get your butts out here or I'll randomly disqualify all of you and take the million for myself." With a great deal of grumbling, both teams stopped work on their restaurants and filed out to stand along the edge of the new lake. "Welcome to Lake Wawanakwa!"

"You've already done that," pointed out Isaac, "I hate it when people repeat themselves."

"The last time I introduced it there was only a crater in the ground, didn't have the quite the same effect. As of yet, and you can probably tell by the fact I'm actually out here, the lake has not been filled with ferocious mutants as of yet, that's coming later, look forward to it losers."

"And here I thought we were going to be feeding the rapid mutants," said Chance, "for shame Mclean."

"No, you won't be feeding rapid mutants," Chris grinned evilly, "though the people you will be feeding are pretty close in any case."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Maria groaned, seeing where this was headed.

"Tonight you'll be serving dinner for the other team, since Donovan was the only one brave enough face the abyss, the Killer Critics will be eating at the Scream of Horror first and after that service the Screaming Fans will eat at Killer Food poisoning. I'm expecting a proper service, someone needs to be at reception and there'll need to be servers and cooks as well. My stringent judging criteria will be top secret so you won't be sure how to win this, any questions?"

"Yeah, when exactly is the first dinner service?" asked Marshall, "we've been on a vague timetable all day."

"The dinner service will be held at dinnertime," smirked Chris, not elaborating further.

"Gee, thanks that was really informative."

"No worries, I'm a giver, now quit slacking off and get back to work! I will ring the mystic dinner gong when it is time."

* * *

Once the campers had retreated back inside, Chris Mclean lay comfortably back in the gondola and grinned up at the camera. "Will those crazy critics ever get their act together? Are the Screaming Fans going to rip each other's throats out? Will either team actually provide edible food tonight? Find out when we come back on Total Drama OUTRAGE!"

* * *

Splitting this chapter roughly in two since this chapter kept changing and evolving as I was writing it. Hope it works out ok and sorry if this is annoying to cut off mid challenge.


	5. Chap 5: Outrageously Bad Service Part 2

**Total Drama Outrage**

**Chapter 5: Outrageously Bad Service Part 2**

**Floating Platform on the centre of Lake Wawanakwa**

The gondola hadn't provided nearly enough room to set up the Mystical Gong of Dining Summons and so it along with the intern responsible for steering it had been replaced by a great wooden platform. Chris had set up a deck chair was currently lounging on it, wearing sunglasses and looking thoroughly relaxed despite the rather events of the day. That was probably to do with the fact that he was responsible for most of them. Lying beside his chair was a massive sledge hammer, the reason he would have this in such close proximity became apparent when one saw the sheer size of the gong he was going to use. The gargantuan percussion instrument blazed golden in the sunlight and was covered with an intricate series of runes and decorative carvings. It looked as though it should be in a museum instead of Chris Mclean's demented reality show.

"Welcome back to Total Drama Outrage, if you've just tuned in, Chef's kidnapping by what may or may not have been an official government agency threw a spanner in Camp Wawanakwa's food service. I could just force the interns to cook, but hey, they're half-starved and would eat everything so I've conned the contestants into opening their own restaurants. They'll be eating at each other's restaurants as part of the challenge but little do they know that I'll be joining them as a surprise guest," Chris shrugged, "saves me getting my own food. It all starts when I strike the mystic gong, the pirates I brought it off tell me they stole it from some primitive island and that striking it is supposed wake a great behemoth of deep." A ringtone cut of Chris' monologue and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, answering another phone call from the producers. "Yeah I still buy stuff off pirates… No, that was before they went rogue… all perfectly legal," Chris covered the mouthpiece of the phone and resumed speaking to the camera, "I've got to deal with this funding crime folderol, enjoy the show!"

* * *

**Scream of Disgust**

"I would like to announce the grand opening of Honest Billy's Scream of Disgust," announced Billy proudly, gesturing expansively at his team's new restaurant. He was standing in front of a school desk that had been draped with a tablecloth to hide the fact it was a school desk and seemed to think that standing in the impromptu reception area made him king of the hill. "Thanks to all of you for your hard work, I couldn't have done it seven eights as well without you."

"You couldn't have done it full stop without us," interjected Sandra, "all you did was paint that sign and tell ridiculous lies. You'd still be standing in a hazardous construction zone if it wasn't for us."

"I couldn't agree more," Isaac said hastily, "let's eliminate Billy tonight."

"We haven't lost yet," said Marshall, "and I don't intend for us to so don't try and sabotage anything," he warned, "or else you'll be the one getting eliminated."

"Are you threatening me!?"

"It was more of a warning to be honest."

"You can't warn me about elimination, you only have one vote remember."

"I'll vote against you," Billy added quickly.

"Shut it bozo," snapped Isaac.

"I can predict who gets eliminated if you want," offered Alice, "then you won't need to argue about it anymore."

"Do you mean you're just going to take a guess or actually look into the future," asked Chance, "because the word predict can be ambiguous."

"The only thing ambiguous here are your morals," interrupted Stacey, "I mean you may as well just rob a bank instead of conning people out of their life savings with your card cheats, it's much the same in the end."

"Uh, it's kinda not even close," muttered Marshall, quietly enough that Stacey wouldn't suddenly round on him and accuse him of being a hired thug again.

"There's no ambiguity about his morals," insisted Billy, "he doesn't have any, unlike me."

"You really aren't making any friends here," stated Chance idly, "it's almost like you're trying to get eliminated."

"Excuse me!" Cynthia tapped her cane loudly against the floor, attempting to regain control of the conversation. "We're not here to make friends; at the moment all we have to do is make dinner." Sandra clapped slowly and rolled her eyes.

"Geez, tell me who your speech writer is would you? That was some brilliant stuff right there," she said sarcastically.

"Your manners are rather boorish for one who professes to be so learned," observed Cynthia, "I'd rather you didn't interact with the customers if your mannerisms will be so harsh."

"The 'customers' are just the kooky critics, I wouldn't worry about them," said Chance dismissively, "Everett thinks jelly is alien flesh and Wolf will eat anything, I hardly think they qualify as food connoisseurs."

"A good establishment will treat all customers, no matter eccentric or uneducated, completely the same. Therefore I think Sandra should work in the kitchen where she cannot antagonise the customers."

"You want to put the mad scientist in the kitchen?" asked Isaac, a touch hysterically, "hello vomiting out your own lungs in a haze of toxic chemicals."

"I'm a SANE scientist; you don't get to call me mad when you're on the same team as a self-professed psychic witch and Robo Cop's extremist sister."

"Hold on here, Cynthia can't give orders," claimed Billy, "everyone knows that I'm the leader here."

"Nobody knows that," said Stacey, "not one single person, claiming that they do is hearsay at best, slander at worst. And don't even mention me in same sentence as Robo Cop; he's a walking exhibit of the use of Excessive Force against a suspect."

"Oh who cares," said Sandra, "I'll follow her instructions if it means I don't have to deal with the customers from hell."

"The town in Michigan or the torturous demonic realm?" quipped Marshall. Sandra considered it for a moment.

"Well Donovan might well be a demon in disguise, since practically everyone is terrified of angering him," she answered, "and if you listen to Everett, Wolf is some sort of shape shifter so that's a demonic trait as well."

"Ah, funny you should bring up Donovan because the other six members of his team may be happy sitting together at the octagonal table; Donovan will likely wish to sit alone facing the wall like he always does."

"I'll get that small square table over there and move it to a corner," offered Marshall, "someone bring that huge reinforced chair as well."

"I will," chorused Isaac and Billy simultaneously before shooting death glares at each other and beginning a prolonged battle over the chair. Chance snorted in derision before casually walking up to the brawling duo and cracking their heads together. When they both slumped back in a daze Chance took the chair and carried it over to where Marshall was.

"If you want something done right you have to do itself," he muttered grimly.

"Restaurant staff shouldn't brawl in front of customers," admonished Cynthia, "it sets a bad tone. Billy and Isaac better work in the kitchen as well where the customers can't see them, or else they'll disturb everyone."

"You want to put them in the same room?" asked Sandra incredulously, "a room with knives and stoves and blenders and flamethrowers and_"

"Oh you can keep an eye on them Sandra," said Cynthia, "it'll be fine."

"I believe the third eye would be more useful in pre-empting trouble," advised Alice, "you will require my assistance."

"I agree, you should not be out here disturbing customers with bizarre psychic insights. I can greet the customers at reception before taking orders, Chance, Marshall, would you mind being waiters?"

"No problem at all."

"I won't enjoy it but I suppose I'll manage."

"Good, that leaves Stacey with_"

"Security!" shouted Stacey, "I'll be the head of security. I can't work in the kitchen because of regulation 177683, sorry."

"But we don't need security, this isn't a nightclub and it would set a terrible tone," mused Cynthia.

"Are you kidding, we definitely need security, that loony Matthew is going to be here!" Cynthia sighed.

"I suppose someone ought to keep an eye on some of the stranger customers, I don't like the idea though."

"This is Total Drama, the probability of you not liking something is extremely high," warned Chance, "and it's about to get a lot worse."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Sandra: Looks like I drew the short straw, in the kitchen with Little Miss Witch and the Fighting Morons. At least I won't be in the line of fire when Matthew flips out, something happened to Donovan during the simulator challenge and it wouldn't surprise me if that enraged nutter was involved.**

**Alice: I can't really predict who gets eliminated tonight; quite a few of my fellow contestants are temporal loose cannons who keep the future constantly changing. Erratic behaviour has a habit of doing that.**

**Billy: Ok so at first my team is all like 'there's no leader' and then Cynthia can just boss us around like nobody's business? The guys really need to get their stories straight, it's embarrassing. By the way back when I was in the war they used to call me the Infiltrator because I can slip in anywhere, I'll regain control of this group in no time.**

**Chance: I tried to get people to take a bet that the kitchen wouldn't get completely torn apart when Isaac and Billy start fighting but no one seemed interested. Tough luck.**

* * *

**Killer Food Poisoning**

"Ugh, could you stop making that crazy cryptid origami Everett?" asked Maria, "Wolf keeps stealing it and using it to make a mattress over there." Indeed, Wolf was currently curled up in the corner, fast asleep on a pile of Everett's origami. Everett blankly looked over to where he was supposed to be piling his finished origami and saw that it was in fact all gone, stolen by Wolf. He tore at his hair in frustration and started shouting at Wolf.

"Give it all back you wretched werewolf! I've got a silver butter knife over here and I'm not afraid to use it," Everett reached across the blackjack table and grabbed the first piece of cutlery he came across, which unfortunately turned out to be a plastic spoon. Making do with what he had, Everett still brandished it wildly at Wolf. The wild girl woke and looked lazily in Everett's direction before yawning wildly, not at all concerned by his actions. "This isn't hibernation time, do you understand?"

"You might as well speak to wall of solid stone," said Donovan scornfully, "you would get as response from it."

"That's interesting, I think Everett was talking to a tree the other day, does that count?" asked Lauren, her usual dreamy self as she added some last minute touches to the decoration of the room.

"He spoke to a tree?" demanded Donovan, before striding over to Everett and shaking him violently, "what wisdom did the forest give you, speak!"

"There were many voices, each clamouring over the other," started Everett, staring off into the distance as he remembered, "There was a warning of some kind, there was fire and someone was going to hurt someone else?" Everett sounded rather unsure of what he was saying but it seemed to mean a great deal to Donovan who immediately released Everett and whirled around to face Heidi.

"Fire, the forest was speaking of your hair, warning me that you will attack me once again," he paused thoughtfully, "but why did the message go to the mind of one blinded by delusion?"

"Believe me, I _want _to attack you, but I have some restraint," said Heidi, "and Everett has no idea what he's talking about," she shot a glance at the boy, "no offense but you say some _weird_ stuff."

"None taken, can you ask Wolf to give my origami back?" Despite ignoring him previously, Wolf seemed to understand this and growled threateningly at him, gnashing her teeth.

"I HATE origami and I HATE asking questions," raged Matthew, "So I hate every single thing Everett just said!"

"Interesting, do you also hate hating stuff?" asked Lauren.

"Of course," said Matthew proudly, "I'm the best hater."

"Congratulations," drawled Maria, "we'll make you the Killer Critics' mascot or something but let's do that later ok? I'd kind of like to figure how the hell we're going to handle tonight's dinner service. I know we're going second but we still need to be ready because Chris isn't going to give us a great deal of time to get ready."

"You are lucky," said Donovan, "I have spent much time pondering the best placements for this team. Heidi you_"

"I don't take instructions from you," she interrupted, "Wolf is the leader remember?" she strolled over to Wolf and mussed her hair, "Hey Wolfy, what should I do?" Wolf gazed at Heidi quizzically before giving a sudden bark. Heidi grinned and turned back around to face the others. "She said I should be a waitress, sounds good to me."

"That was the task I had in mind for you anyhow," said Donovan, "consider yourself lucky. Maria, you wrote the menu and thus know it best, you will be the best person to take the orders and make recommendations."

"Like the Screaming Fans will listen to a word I say but sure," Maria shrugged, "it'll all end in disaster whatever I do."

"You must battle your negativity," advised Lauren, "defeatism is bad for you complexion, be happy Maria."

"Sounds great, I'll just turn on my happiness switch right now shall I?" Maria asked sarcastically. She quickly realised what she had just said and shot a death glare at Everett before he could say anything. "I don't have any switches, so don't even start."

"You have a warm personality, painting girl," Donovan interjected suddenly, "you should welcome the guests."

"Can I continue painting stuff afterwards?" Donovan considered this for a moment before nodding.

"Maybe the Screaming Fans will believe it is some form of entertainment, you may do so."

"I've got to be in the kitchen to ensure nobody poisons the food with rage serum and drives everyone who eats it completely unreasonable and violent," said Everett, evidently treating this idea as a very serious threat.

"I will not have you lurking around the kitchen like a paranoid spider guarding against an event that will never occur," said Donovan in a tone that brooked no argument. "You will be a waiter so you can't get into too much trouble." Everett scowled.

"Fine, don't blame me if you all go mad then."

"There was no other conclusion for you to reach," rumbled Donovan, "Wolf and Matthew will join me in the kitchen, I will direct their energies towards food preparation."

"What!? You can't expect Wolf to follow a recipe can you?" asked Heidi, "and you said Everett was delusional."

"You underestimate her, underneath the beast there is a human mind that understands just as you do," Wolf barked proudly in agreement with Donovan's assessment.

"Wait a minute, I HATE cooking!" if anyone was surprised by Matthew's outburst they didn't show it, this sort of behaviour was common by now.

"Yes, but you don't hate hacking things up with knives and tenderising meat," said Donovan, "your anger will prove useful in these tasks."

"Knives?" Matthew threw his head back and began to laugh maniacally. "Count me in."

"Then it is settled."

"That's nice," said Lauren, "I think the decorations are finished, what do we do now?"

"Now?" Donovan paused and glanced over at the door, "we wait and prepare ourselves for everything Chris Mclean throws against us."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Heidi: I don't know why everyone else lets Donovan boss them around; he's not **_**that**_** scary after all. Then again I suppose I have an advantage because he thinks I'm some kind of assassin trying to kill him so he probably didn't try to push me into anything. Still, Wolf is a better leader any day.**

**Lauren: I took some that origami lying around and made a chef's hat for Wolf, she likes hats.**

**Everett: **his face is pushed right up against the camera and he whispers **there's something in the water. Don't trust the trees.**

* * *

**Floating Platform on the centre of Lake Wawanakwa**

Chris woke up from his relaxing nap and saw that the sky above him was dark, yawning loudly he reached over to pick up a ridiculously expensive gold watch lying on the platform beside his chair. When he held it up to his face he could clearly make out the words, 'Dinner Time' flashing in red neon lights. "Can't argue with that," he said, "Intern, fetch me the Hammer of Almost Certain Doom!" a nervous looking intern sidled out of the darkness and passed Chris the mighty sledge hammer. "Let the puketastic dinner service begin!" He swung the hammer and it hit the symbol with a mighty crash. For a brief moment the runes seemed to blaze with white light and the clanging reverberations became deafening.

* * *

On a remote island forgotten by time, a woman shrieks and wails at the skies while warriors around her rattle spears and wave burning torches. A tribal elder falls to his knees, dropping his staff and openly weeping. In the dark depths of the ocean, never seen before by mankind, something stirs…

* * *

**Floating Platform on the centre of Lake Wawanakwa**

"Oooookay," said Chris now speaking into a megaphone so all the contestants could hear him, "that was a little louder than I was expecting, anyway, Screaming Fans, get your butts into gear and prepare for the dinner service. Killer Critics, _carefully_ make your way along the edge of the lake and wait outside the Scream of Disgust for someone to open the door. But don't wait too long because this is a challenge! If the Screaming Fans aren't ready smash your way in there and wreck the place!" Chris bursting into sadistic laughter didn't leave the Screaming Fans with any doubt that he would in fact order the Killer Critics to vandalise the place if they took too long. It was going to be a long night for everyone involved. Message over with, Chris put the microphone down and started muttering to himself.

"Now, where did I leave that jetpack? Interns!"

* * *

**Scream of Disgust**

Cynthia rushed to take her place behind the poorly disguised school desk and waved for Marshall and Chance to come over. "Marshall, you open the door to let them in and then you and Chance will stand on either side of the entrance."

"Why do they need an honour guard?" asked Chance, "seems a bit much if you ask me."

"Well Stacey insists on being security so it's better for image if you two look like guards," explained Cynthia, not really making much sense at all. "That way it's not just her prowling around the dining room like a caged tiger." Stacey might have resented that if she'd overhead but fortunately she was too busy prowling around the other side of the dining room and everyone was spared another lecture on how they were all slanderous criminals.

"But once we start taking order it'll be fairly obvious that we're waiters not guards making the whole thing pointless," said Marshall.

"Don't be so narrow minded," insisted Cynthia, "it's all about image and_" she was interrupted by a booming knock at the door. By the way the very hinges shook they could tell it was probably Donovan on the other side, either that or Matthew had decided that he hated doors and suddenly crash tackled the entrance. "Open it!" hissed Cynthia. Marshall quickly whipped the door open and he and Chance dropped into position on either side of the door. Cynthia arranged her face into a welcoming smile as Donovan's hulking form stepped through the door. "Welcome to the Scream of Disgust, for your comfort we have arranged private seating for you in the back corner, facing the wall as is your preference."

"That is acceptable," rumbled Donovan, "I require no sustenance tonight, send no one to disturb me." Cynthia looked a little confused as Donovan walked off and turned to the next person she saw for clarification, Matthew. "Donovan doesn't eat dinner?" she asked. Unfortunately, as is often the case with Matthew he entirely missed the point of what she was saying.

"The hell Donovan doesn't eat dinner, he wolfs the stuff down, breakfast and lunch too, I mean look at the size of him." Wolf heard a mention of her name and bounded forward, bumping into Matthew. The easily enraged boy stumbled forward and grabbed at the tablecloth in front of him for support, succeeding only in ripping it off the table and falling in a tangled heap with it. The surprise reveal of a school desk wouldn't disturb most people but Everett stared at the desk like it was flaming bat right out of hell.

"What have you done?" he demanded, "Do you have any idea what horror you've unleashed?"

"Someone has bad memories about school," giggled Heidi, "come on Everett, it's just a desk." That utterly failed to calm Everett down and he started brandishing the plastic spoon he still had around in the air. Lauren watched the whole thing with detached curiosity before nudging Marshall and Chance.

"I don't suppose you two are going to do anything about this?" she asked politely, spurring them into action. Marshall calmly stepped over to where Matthew was thrashing about trapped in a table cloth and deftly unravelled it, letting him roll free. Chance meanwhile swiftly disarmed Everett of his plastic spoon and threw it out the door. Everett watched the spoon as it flew away then seemed to completely forget whatever was bothering him and fell silent.

"Love how you're running the place," Maria drawled sarcastically, "any chance of us getting a seat or we going to eat standing up?" A flustered Cynthia struggled to regain her composure before pointing over at the octagonal table.

"You should all find a sufficient variety seating to suit your tastes over there, please make yourselves comfortable." She most likely added the 'should' into that sentence on the grounds that Everett had an interesting habit of seeing things that weren't there at all and perhaps would find a flying octopus instead of a seat. Wolf, blissfully unaware of all the trouble she had caused by bumping into Matthew barked enthusiastically and bounded over to take a seat on the park bench, the rest of her team filing over to settle in around the table on the various forms of seating. Matthew of course claimed the armchair because he 'hated' being uncomfortable while Lauren immediately flopped down onto the beanbag and stared up at the ceiling like the answer to every question in the universe was scrawled up there. Cynthia allowed herself a brief sigh of relief now that the guests were all seated and motioned for Chance to close the front door.

That's when things were plunged into lunacy once more. As Chance was trying to close the door, something slammed into it at a very high speed and erupted in a plume of smoke. The door and Chance with it were flung backwards, the door crashing back into the wall and Chance rolling across the dining room to hit the far wall. The cloud of smoke cleared to reveal a smirking Chris wearing his jetpack. "Surprise losers! I'll be attending dinner at both restaurants, bet you didn't see that coming! Now I presume one of you can show me to the VIP lounge?"

"I'll show to jail for the wilful damage of property!" snarled Stacey, already halfway across the room before Marshall intercepted her, thankfully preventing her attempted arrest of Chris Mclean.

"Uh," Cynthia was lost for words, "we don't have a VIP lounge you can sit…" she trailed off as Chris spotted the Killer Critics at their octagonal table.

"With those losers? This is so beneath me," Chris stalked off and took a seat on the park bench beside Wolf who snarled and snapped at him. "Food hasn't been served yet, chill dudette."

"You can always kick Donovan out of his chair," suggested Heidi, who was sitting on Wolf's other side, "not that I want him here but having to socialise with others would annoy the hell out of him."

"Yeeaah, did I mention people who sit alone in corners staring at the wall look like LOSERS! I think I'll stay here, being a famous host and everything." If anyone felt like disagreeing with Chris Mclean's generalisation of loners, he didn't give them a chance to respond. "Any chance of getting some menus around here?" he asked loudly, clicking his fingers. Cynthia, Chance and Marshall hurried over to the table and handed out crudely designed menus to everyone present. Cynthia and Chance hovered around the table ready to take orders while Marshall strode off to the corner of the room to give a menu to Donovan.

"Oh, I didn't think Donovan wanted to be disturbed," said Lauren, "I must have missed something."

"You didn't" Maria told her grimly, before looking over at Cynthia, "you're about to lose a waiter." They all watched silently as Marshall reached Donovan's table and placed a menu down on it. The faint sound of the menu touching the surface of the table seemed to strike Donovan with the force of an explosion. His eyes snapped wide open as he was ripped from his meditative stupor and he gazed at Marshall with an expression of pure primal fury that would put Matthew to shame.

"I said I wasn't to be disturbed," rumbled Donovan, rising slowly form his reinforced chair to loom over an impassive Marshall. "I warned you not to test me."

"No one told me anything about that," Marshall shrugged carelessly, "I don't suppose you're ready to order?" Back on the other side of the room Cynthia was looking aghast, she should have warned Marshall not to go over there, why had she listened to Matthew's vague answer?

"Matthew, why did you tell me that Donovan wanted to eat dinner?" she asked him in a pained voice.

"What!? I never said anything of the sort, I HATE it when people put words in my mouth."

"He's got blasted amnesia!" shouted Everett, struggling to rise from the oversized cushion he was sitting on, "I warned you about amnesia serum, I warned all of you!"

"I think Everett would like to order some nice chamomile tea," suggested Lauren, "it might help to calm him down."

"Yeah, if by tea you mean a bucket full of elephant tranquiliser," cracked Chris, "now would you nuts shut up? I'm trying to watch the fight." As one the campers remembered there was something dramatic going on in the far corner and turned to look just as the confrontation reached a boiling point. After a brief argument nobody could hear, Donovan made a lunge at Marshall, striking out with a clenched fist. He struck only empty air as Marshall swayed aside, easily avoiding the attack before leaping into a complex backflip to take him out of Donovan's range.

"I will not fight you," he stated as he stared up at his giant opponent, "you are not trained."

"Do not try and hide your pacifism behind rationalisations, I still see your weakness as clear as day." Donovan swept up his chair and hurled it straight at Marshall in a scene eerily reminiscent of what happened upon his arrival at the dock. Just like he had back then, Marshall moved quicker than the eye could see, his foot lashing out to strike the chair neatly out of the air to crash back down near Donovan, as if challenging him to try that trick again.

"I think we have some differences in our definition of strength," was all Marshall said, not backing down in the slightest. Donovan didn't respond, merely letting out a wordless cry of bestial rage and charging at Marshall. The young martial artist easily stepped out of the way but Donovan didn't stop running when he missed Marshall, he kept on running until he was out the front door and vanished from sight. Marshall turned back to the watching crowd with a grin, "he really needed to use the bathroom."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Donovan: It was all too easy to put on a mask of false rage, even that fool in the red hood is capable of calling on his anger. I had hoped my apparent rage would prompt Marshall to break free of his self-imposed code and fight against me but it was for nothing. I believe he must truly fear for him own life before he will fight. I will think on this while I wait for my section of the challenge in Killer Food Poisoning.**

* * *

"Show's over people," drawled Chris, "now I want some caviar over here pronto, get to it people!"

"My apologies, caviar is not on the menu," explained Cynthia, "might I recommend_"

"I don't give a rat's rear end what you recommend, bring me my caviar!" Chris slammed his fast against the table, sending a startled Cynthia scurrying off towards the kitchen.

"I don't think the posterior of a rat would be accepted as currency in most places," commented Maria, "just saying."

"Maria's an android," said Everett, "just saying."

"Enough with the android stuff!" snapped Maria, loudly enough to attract Stacey who appeared to have been hiding during Marshall and Donovan's confrontation. The aspiring police officer darted other to the table to point accusingly to Maria.

"Are you here to eat something or just cause trouble? I'll throw you out if you don't hurry up and order!"

"Oh you want to throw me out?" Maria asked incredulously, "not the girl who is currently trying to gnaw her way through the table leg?" Stacey looked over in time to see Wolf biting at the table leg inquisitively. Apparently it didn't taste very nice because she shook her head and made a disgusted expression.

"I'll order for Wolf," Heidi said quickly, "she'll just have a platter of raw meat."

"Oh, are you helping people order?" asked Everett, "can you tell me which foods don't include mind control drugs?"

"You mean sugar because it's addictive right? The pasta should be fine."

"I HATE this menu!" Roared Matthew, slamming a knife into the tabletop as he rose furiously to his feet. "It has nothing worth eating on it!"

"Dude's right," agreed Chris, "no caviar, I mean seriously?"

"Ok that's it, I will not tolerate the use of a deadly weapon in this restaurant, you're coming with me," Stacey seized Matthew's arm and tried to drag him towards the front door. Tried being the operative word here, as he kicked up a huge fuss and flailed his legs about. Marshall supposed he better help his teammate and grabbed Matthew's other arm, between the two of them they were able to haul Matthew out the door and slam it shut after him. Chance smiled weakly at the Killer Critics.

"Do the rest of you want to order anything?"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Matthew: Throw me out of the restaurant will they? Well I didn't want to be there anyway so there! Now I've got to hang around Killer Food Poisoning with Donovan and I HATE Donovan. This challenge sucks.**

* * *

Meanwhile Chance joined Cynthia in the kitchen to tell them the remaining orders. With both Matthew and Donovan gone from the challenge for rage related reasons the Screaming Fans would only have to serve six meals. Unfortunately having to make two less meals wasn't going to make things any easier, since Chris had ordered an impossible meal.

"Caviar!" exclaimed Sandra, "well the genius didn't send any caviar in the food crates so I suppose we'll have to skulk about the river looking for some?" she suggested sarcastically. Billy seemed to miss this sarcasm however, and seriously thought she was planning some sort of fishing trip.

"Great idea Sandra, after all I am the greatest fisherman of all time, did I tell you about the time I caught the Loch Ness Monster?"

"You couldn't catch a blue whale out of a barrel," sneered Isaac.

"Of course he couldn't," snapped Sandra, "because it's scientifically impossible to get a blue whale or any whale for that matter into a typical barrel."

"Ah but you forget that science affords us only one set of possibilities, it may well be magically possible to get a blue whale into a barrel," said Alice sagely. "You never know."

"Actually I do, just like I know how daft you are."

"We'll worry about the caviar later," suggested Isaac, "let's just get started on the dishes we can make."

"I really wish Marshall and Stacey hadn't thrown Matthew out," said Cynthia, "now I'll have to head out there and apologise." Chance waved his hands dismissively.

"Don't bother, I'll just distract them all with some card tricks until the meals are ready, they probably don't even care that Matthew is gone."

Chance's prediction turned out to be quite accurate, nobody was overly concerned by Matthew's sudden departure, in fact the atmosphere had improved without him raging about everything. Abandoning his original idea of card tricks, figuring that Everett would probably accuse him of sorcery, Chance instead took Matthew's vacated chair and started up a game of Go Fish with some of the Critics. Chris was mostly ignoring all of them while they played, yammering away into his phone arguing about pirates and kidnappings. On the other hand, they probably wished Stacey was ignoring them because even though there was no money involved in the game she had an intense distrust over any kind of card game and was breathing down their necks.

"He's playing cards with them," muttered Cynthia to Marshall was standing beside her at the front desk, "that's terribly unprofessional for a staff member to do."

"Sure it's unprofessional," agreed Marshall with a snigger, "but it's funny as hell." He was referring to the fact that Wolf didn't quite seem to understand the game and only really got the bit where people were taking cards off each other, leading to her prowling around and trying to steal cards from the other players. Every now and then you could hear Everett shouting angrily about werewolves being rubbish at cards or Stacey ranting about the dangers of gambling. The chaos was finally interrupted when a bell rung in the kitchen, alerting the other Screaming Fans that dinner was ready to be served.

"Sorry guys, games over," said Chance, collecting his scattered cards, bar those Wolf had, she threatened to bite his hand off when he reached for them. "Time to serve dinner," he strolled off to join Cynthia and Marshall collecting plates in the kitchen. One by one various meals were delivered until Chris Mclean was the only left without food. He soon noticed this disparity as Wolf loudly chomped through some sort of steak sandwich and hung up the phone.

"Where's my caviar? I haven't eaten since my five course gourmet lunch, hurry it up here people!" Cynthia emerged from the kitchen carrying a massive silver platter, covered by a lid. Chris rubbed his hands in anticipation as the whole ensemble was carefully placed in front of him. Everyone else at the table paused in their eating to watch as Chris lifted the lid and saw… nothing but a scrap of paper, upon which, in Sandra's handwriting was the following message written:

_Dear Chris Mclean, Host of the most sadistic game show on the planet_

_Regretfully we do not have any caviar but if you be so kind as to hit yourself over the head with the provided platter until you fall unconscious, a staff member will attempt to convince you that you have in fact eaten caviar during the confusion after you wake up._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Anonymous_

"Oh that's really funny guys!" Chris angrily struck the platter off the table, "which one of you clowns in responsible for this?" No one answered him, Cynthia just stared in horror and Marshall and Chance couldn't help but laugh. Even Stacey smiled briefly before she decided that this incident was classed as conspiracy to commit assault and returned to her usual stern expression. "Fine then, since this is so obviously a dismal establishment, I declare that the Screaming Fans portion of the challenge is officially over. Maria glared at him with a spoonful of ice cream halfway to her mouth.

"But we haven't finished eating yet," she complained.

"Does it look like I care? Killer Critics, get back to Killer Food Poisoning and prepare for dinner service. Screaming Fans, clean this mess up and then head after them, double time it people!" Rather than any sort of scramble to follow his instructions, Chris Mclean's words were instead greeted by a muffled explosion from the kitchen and a horrific shout. Billy, wielding a blowtorch, burst out of the kitchen and wrenched his helmet off, sending ice cubes scattering everywhere. The person responsible for turning Billy's hat into a freezer emerged soon afterwards, a wild-eyed Isaac waving a carving knife in the air. He only got a few steps towards Billy before he realised they had an audience.

"Is the challenge over or something?"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Cynthia: That was an utter disaster, I don't know what we could have done about the caviar situation but that was **_**not**_** the way to handle and egomaniac like Chris Mclean. I suppose we can still win this if the Killer Critics behave twice as unprofessionally which in this case seems to mean that Wolf will have to maul everyone who comes through the door in order for us to win.**

**Chance: It's not so bad, as long as none of get thrown out the Critics will have cook nine meals to our six, putting them at a disadvantage right off the bat. I like our odds in this challenge.**

**Isaac: Even with Sandra's little joke and that fight I started right at the end I still don't know if we'll lose this challenge. I need to eliminate Billy, why can't we just lose already?**

* * *

**Killer Food Poisoning**

Even though it was unlikely that Chris Mclean would try the same insane jetpack stunt twice, you could never be quite sure what the sadistic host was up to. So as a protective measure Lauren just left the door wide open and warned Maria, Everett and Heidi not to stand too close to the entrance. That turned out to be a smart choice because even though he didn't use his jetpack once again, he wasn't simply going to enter like a normal person. No, someone rolled a smokebomb through the open door and in an instant the entranceway was obscured by billowing smoke. Knowing that the sight of smoke would probably make Everett think a demon was about to appear, and he wouldn't be far off to be honest, Heidi suddenly clapped her hands over his sunglasses. Unfortunately, everything going dark all of sudden didn't suit him any better.

"Is this the end?" he asked in a panic.

"No silly, it's just me."

"Why are you blocking my vision then?"

"Uh, because_" she was spared thinking up an answer when a familiar mechanical roar started up and the smoke was blasted away, revealing an unruffled Chris Mclean standing in the doorway.

"That's right," said Chris arrogantly, "you should cover your eyes in awe because I'm the Host with the Most."

"The most obnoxious entrances perhaps," muttered Maria sourly, not at all impressed by his nonsense.

"That was a nice smoke bomb," Lauren told Chris conversationally, "I liked all the different images it made in the air." Chris was fairly sure there had been no images in the air but he wasn't going to miss a chance to brag.

"Of course, I only buy the best, you can do that when you have a massive budget," despite the fact his 'massive budget' didn't stretch to providing any safety or comfort for the campers. "Now please tell me you people have a VIP lounge, I don't want to sit so close to losers ever again."

"Oh yes, it's quite nice in there if I remember correctly, or maybe that was all just a dream I had…" she trailed off and stared up at the ceiling until Chris coughed impatiently, startling her back into this world. "It's behind that curtain over there, Heidi can show you over there and take your order," it wasn't a hard decision, Maria wouldn't be able to resist insulting Chris and Everett was muttering some weird chant under his breath. "Do you know when the Screaming Fans will arrive by the way?"

"They'll be along soon enough, they just had to clear the table and fix whatever hell they caused in the kitchen," without another word Chris followed Heidi into the VIP section and hurled himself casually into the golden throne. "Now this is more like it, tell those clowns you put in the kitchen to bring me a roast swan and make fast," Heidi knew better than to tell Chris that they didn't have any swans and just smiled politely before sidling off to join the others back at the front entrance before she complained.

"He asked for a roast swan! What is wrong with that man?"

"Too many things to list by the end of this challenge," said Maria, "tell Donovan to improvise."

"I wouldn't tell Donovan if his pants were on fire," snapped Heidi, "I can't go near him without hearing about assassination attempts and cowardice."

"Fine, Everett, you tell Donovan to pretend to make roast swan in there." Everett stopped reciting whatever weird chant he'd been doing and threw Maria a smart salute before bolting off towards the kitchen. "That probably wasn't the best choice," groaned Maria, "he's going to barge in there and shout some nonsense about a swan and Donovan will throw him through a window or something." There was no time to call him back however since the Screaming Fans had finally arrived with Stacey in the lead. She didn't even let Lauren welcome her before her eyes locked onto the blackjack table that was being used as a dining table.

"A contravention of the gambling code, you've set up an illegal casino in here! I knew you were crooks, barking mad but still all crooks!"

"An illegal casino," Lauren looked rather bemused, "you must want next door, this is Killer Food Poisoning. Now would you like to go back outside and come in again so I can welcome you?" Marshall rolled his eyes at how ridiculous this was getting.

"Ignore Stacey and pretend we've all just arrived ok?" he suggested, "you can welcome all of us."

"Sure," she grinned, "welcome all of you to the newly opened Killer Food Poisoning, all the artwork was done by me so I hope you like it…" she trailed off leaving the fans time to comment. Unfortunately it was Billy who took the opening.

"A mighty decent attempt if I do say so myself," he said loudly, "reminds me of my own work when I was a novice. This was a long time ago of course; I've since risen to become a masterful artist."

"Get out of it you idiot," said Isaac, "you can't draw a stick figure right, Lauren's stuff is way better than that stupid sign you painted."

"Yes, it's all charming," Cynthia loudly cut across the burgeoning argument, "could you please direct us to an available table?"

"Judging by the eight chairs they've arranged around that blackjack table I'd say that our intended seating arrangement is fairly obvious," said Sandra.

"I know," replied Cynthia, "but it's still polite to ask."

"Not always you know," said Alice, starting up one of her philosophy lectures, "it isn't polite to ask people some things. Like, 'are you stupid?' or 'would you like a knuckle sandwich?'"

"That's ok, Maria didn't put Pork Knuckle Sandwich on the menu so no one should be offended," Lauren assured them. "Feel free to seat yourself at the blackjack table and someone will soon be with you to take your orders."

"Great," Chance rushed ahead of the others, already shuffling a deck of cards, "this table is brilliant, I'll be the dealer."

"No way, everyone knows the house always wins," argued Isaac.

"I've already told you, nobody will be gambling illegally on this island!" insisted Stacey, "I won't have it!"

* * *

While all this was going on, Everett was in the kitchen trying to relay Chris Mclean's request for a roast swan to the kitchen staff. Of course, with Everett being Everett and the kitchen staff being Donovan, Matthew and Wolf, this wasn't going anywhere fast.

"Alright, first order is in," he told them excitedly, "Chris would like a swan."

"Then he is a fool," said Donovan, "for if there were ever swans on this island they were killed long ago by mutants that stalk this wretched place."

"I HATE mutants," chimed in Matthew, while Wolf barked solemnly in agreement.

"No, he wants a dead one!"

"You misunderstand me, even if these hypothetical swans were killed by mutants this happened so long ago that their bodies surely do not remain here."

"That's right, Chris asked for a roast swan but we don't have a roast swan so Maria said you have to pretend to make a roast swan."

"A pretend roast swan? We don't even know what a real roast swan is supposed to taste like," complained Matthew, "I HATE impossible tasks."

"Perhaps Chris himself has never eaten roast swan," mused Donovan, "therefore he will not know the difference. We shall prepare a false swan."

"Well you seem to have this well under control," said Everett, "I'll leave you all to it then, see you when the other orders come in." Donovan watched him leave without comment before walking over the food storage and retrieving a platter of salmon filet.

"Wolf, bring me the largest chicken we have," he asked quietly, "it is time to experiment like the white-coated girl does."

"You want to combine a chicken with some fish in the hope it tastes like a swan? I HATE stupid ideas!" raged Matthew.

"Then feel free to go outside and look for a feral duck, because that is the closest we will get to a real swan on this island." Matthew threw his hands up and annoyance and stalked over to the spice rack to grab any seasoning that had a fancy name, swans were fancy after all.

"There's already two feral ducks in this kitchen," he muttered, prompting Wolf to snarl angrily at him. "Fine, one feral duck and one feral wolf. Donovan's the duck in case you were wondering." Wolf smiled widely and went back to what she was doing and for several moments the kitchen was silent. Finally, a rather confused looking Donovan broke the silence.

"I am not a duck."

* * *

Back out in the dining room, the communication wasn't much clearer, Maria and Heidi were trying to take orders in the midst of a very loud card game. Well the game wasn't meant to loud, most of the noise was coming from players accusing each other of cheating and Stacey repeatedly threatening to arrest people. Rather oblivious to the fact no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to her, Lauren had set up an easel and canvas in plain sight of the blackjack table and was currently painting a portrait of the Screaming Fans sitting there. Obviously the fact they were all moving and shouting was making the task considerably more difficult than it ought to be but Lauren didn't complain, seeing as painting the Screaming Fans was probably easier than getting a sensible order out of them, as Maria was finding out.

"Yes, Alice," said Maria exasperatedly, "I'm sure the moon is in a very auspicious position tonight, could you get around to telling me what you'd like?"

"Oh, I'd rather like to tell you about this sudden insight I had only moments ago. I'm quite sure that Chef has been kidnapped by robots," said Alice seriously. Maria instinctively whirled around to make sure Everett wasn't anywhere in earshot before letting out a sigh of a relief when she realised he had yet to return from the kitchen yet.

"Don't mention robots, or any of that kind of psychic stuff you're always up to near Everett or he'll run out the door screaming his head," she whispered urgently to Alice to which the psychic girl nodded wisely.

"Yes, I had noticed that he has been quite ill lately. He's very easily confused isn't he? That Everett." With that said Alice suddenly changed the topic in that quite sudden way she often did. "I'd quite like a toasted cheese sandwich though." Speaking of het easily confused teenager, Everett had returned and was now in the process of trying to take Sandra's order. However, she was more interested in science than eating anything.

"See I'm very interested in determining how potent any residual radiation on this island is. If safety procedures haven't been followed, and I know Chris Mclean, they most likely haven't, "even food from outside the island may have been contaminated with the radiation during the short period of time it was here."

"So I can just bring you any food at all and you'll wave a Geiger counter over it?" asked Everett, "because I'm fairly sure Chris wouldn't eat here if he thought the food was irradiated."

"That's probably why he's ordering impossible dishes," Everett had relayed Chris' request for a swan earlier, "so he has an excuse not to eat. Anyway, I want to see whether being made with irradiated eggs has a pronounced effect on the chocolate soufflé so I'll order that thanks." Everett personally thought that being made by Donovan, Wolf and Matthew would have a more pronounced effect on the soufflé than any sort of radiation but he thought it better not to say so and drifted off to take Chance's order, subsequently getting roped into playing the next round of cards. It wasn't always the staff having trouble with the customers though; Marshall was having no end of trouble convincing Heidi that he wanted to order something healthy.

"You don't understand," he said, "I have an organised fitness and diet regime I need to stick to for my martial arts training," how Marshall could follow any sort of regime in the midst of Total Drama Outrage was left unexplained. "There's no way I can eat a quadruple chocolate mud cake laced with caramel and caffeine."

"Aw come on, live a little," insisted Heidi, "how about the trifle, it's got jelly in it," as though that was a major selling point.

"I'll pass, look, are you actually going to listen to my order or are we going to stand here all night arguing about it?"

"Nope," Heidi shook her head with a grin, "I'll just bring you something unhealthy anyway," she turned about and headed back for the kitchen.

"I won't eat it!" he called after her but he received no response. From her at any rate, Billy who had just finished giving his ridiculous long order to Maria decided to give him some advice from across the table.

"That's exactly why she's bringing it to you, so she can have it herself," he explained sagely, "her teammates won't just make the food she asks for, she has to pretend it's part of the challenge."

"Yeah but it also means that I don't eat tonight," Marshall said sourly, "just my luck."

"That's the enemy for you, can't trust them, have I told you about the time I was betrayed by one of my own squad members back during a black ops assignment? See we'd been sent after…"

"Well there's good news and bad news," announced Maria when all of them had returned to the kitchen to deliver the food orders. The kitchen was already a hive of bizarre industry as their teammates tried to concoct a fake roast swan. "Isaac didn't order at all, saying he wasn't hungry and neither did Stacey, she didn't trust the food safety apparently, that's the good news. The bad news is that Cynthia has ordered something ridiculously fancy and Billy's order is as long as my arm."

"They seek to destroy us," growled Donovan, "but their parting shots cannot change the fact that we have succeeded where they failed," with some flourish, he opened the oven and carefully lifted his creation out.

"Can I say something? That looks weird, smells weird and most likely tastes weird, nice job winning the challenge Donovan," said Heidi sarcastically, "of course the Screaming Fans didn't succeed in making that, whatever the hell it is."

"It shall be roast swan, to a man who has never eaten roast swan before," he explained with a hint of pride.

"I seasoned it," added Matthew, "Chris better not HATE it."

"Whatever, Heidi will bring it out to him, just get started on the other orders would you?" asked Maria.

"Take your time," suggested Everett, "I'm supposed to be playing cards in my break."

Maria and Everett returned to the dining room while Heidi detoured to the VIP section with her covered platter of what was supposed to be roast swan. From the interesting smelling steam curling out from under the lid, Chris could definitely tell there wasn't a piece of in this one. "You haven't just hurled a bunch of spices in there to hide the fact it's just a piece of paper have you?" Chris asked suspiciously, "Because I'm not averse to sending BOTH teams to elimination."

"Nope, definitely not a piece of paper," Heidi placed the platter in front of Chris and bolted out of the VIP section before Chris had a chance to taste whatever monstrosity Donovan had created. Her fears turned out to be unfounded however, because when Chris ate some a huge grin spread across his face.

"Best swan I've ever tasted!" he announced loudly to the restaurant at large, "maybe you aren't complete and utter losers after all." He appeared to think about it for a moment, "Nah, you're still losers."

"How on earth did they manage to get a roast duck," hissed Cynthia in a panic, "there's no way we can win this now."

"They've been involved in illegal poaching haven't they?" asked Stacey, "I knew that Donovan was a shifty sort, imagine him, tromping about in the woods killing animals all of the shop."

"There aren't any swans here," said Isaac, "whatever Donovan was out killing in the woods it wasn't a swan."

"As if Donovan was killing anything," argued Billy, "he's all talk don't you know?"

"Yes, we know all too well," muttered Sandra, "about people who are all talk."

"Would you people relax? We're trying to play cards here," said Chance, Maria and Heidi and had joined up as well as Everett, since there was really nothing better to do. "Just wait till the food is ready would you?"

"Easy for you to say," Marshall scowled over at Heidi, "I know what your plan was by the way." She just smiled innocently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Marshall, I wasn't planning anything." The ensuing card game passed relatively peacefully, with the exception of one brief moment where Everett insisted he'd received the Dead Man's Hand and threw his cards across the room. Oh and there was also the incident with Alice winning far too many times and seeming to know every move before it was made, prompting yet another argument as to whether she was a cheat or a psychic cheat. The three Killer Critics playing at the table had entirely lost track of time when they were startled out of the game by the sound of Wolf howling.

"That's our cue," said Maria, rising from her chair, "better clear those cards out of the way, come on Heidi, Everett." Chance reluctantly packed his cards away, with less trouble since Wolf wasn't at the table, and others all waited for their food to arrive. Those who had ordered anyway, Isaac was just looking awfully smug in the knowledge that his team must have lost tonight. Though because Chris was an evil bastard, no sooner had the Killer Critics brought the food out to the table, he emerged from the VIP section, a demented grin on his face.

"What? You people haven't finished eating yet? Too bad, because the challenge is over!" he was forced to pause in the midst of outraged cries of protest. Well at least those who weren't too busy trying to practically inhale their food before Chris forced them to leave cried out in protest. "Before I announce which team is the biggest bunch of losers tonight, I'd like to inform all of you that you better get used to these restaurants because until Chef is saved from whoever the hell has him, you'll be feeding yourselves. That's right you're going to have to use the kitchens to make your own meals, or bully someone else into doing it, or just starve. Doesn't really bother me either way at this juncture. If those pirates have learnt their lesson about messing with me, there should still be deliveries of fresh food for you."

"Now, the LOSERS of tonight's challenge, on the grounds of outrageously bad service including rude and unprofessional staff members and just a plain lack of style, are The Screaming Fans! I thought the Killer Critics were total losers but it turns out you guys suck just as badly, you should all be disappointed in yourselves. Screaming fans, walk carefully around the edge of the lake; drowning will not exempt you from elimination, and report immediately to the confessional to cast your votes. I'll see you all very soon at the bonfire pit. Killer Critics, clear up all that food and then do whatever you want, you're all safe, from elimination at least, for tonight." With Chris leading the way, the Screaming Fans morosely stalked out of Killer Food Poisoning, heading to vote in their first elimination.

"Bye guys!" Heidi waved cheerfully at them as left, "have fun!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Lauren: I didn't even get to finish my painted and I worked so hard on it as well. Such a shame. ** Someone outside beats on the door and tells her to get out so the Screaming Fan can vote. **Whoops, I'm not supposed to be here, sorry.**

**Billy: Isaac, time for you to get off this island, I've had just about enough of you interfering with my plans, time for you to go home.**

**Isaac: FINALLY Billy is going to get kicked off this island and I can regain control of my zombie survival group. Sure Matthew is the only other member left but I can start recruiting again once Billy is out of the way.**

**Sandra: I know which idiot I'm voting for tonight.**

* * *

**Bonfire Pit: Shortly after Killer Food Poisoning Dinner Service**

"This is your first elimination, and if you're this pathetic probably not your last," started Chris Mclean as the Screaming Fans sat before him. "If you do not receive an envelope of enraged hate mail you will walk the Dock of Shame, ride the Boat of Losers and you can NEVER EVER return. Oh and don't open the envelopes ok, Maria did that and it was _really _annoying. Those of you will survive to see another dawn over Camp Wawanakwa are: Sandra, Cynthia, Stacey, Alice, Marshall and Chance," he threw envelopes to all of them until only Isaac and Billy were left without them. "And the last envelope goes to…" Chris paused and began to laugh uproariously.

"Just hurry up and give me the envelope Mclean," growled Isaac, "I don't have all night."

"Give up Isaac, I'm getting the envelope," snapped Billy, "You don't stand a chance."

"The envelope can't go to the person with the highest number of votes because just like last time, the two of you received an equal number of votes."

"So a tiebreaker then?" tried Billy.

"No, I didn't get my caviar and I hate both of you so it's a double elimination so both of you are going home tonight!" Chris said gleefully.

"No way! I blame you for this!'

"It's all your fault!" In an instant the two were fighting each other yet again and a swarm of interns and camera operators descended upon them and dragged them kicking of screaming down the Dock of Shame. Ignoring the screams behind him, Chris turned to look directly into one of the remaining cameras and delivered his closing monologue.

"Will the Screaming Fans cope with suddenly being at a number disadvantage? Will we ever solve the mystery of Chef's kidnapping and are the Killer Critics going to spend the whole night eating left-over food? You don't know, but if you want to, tune in for the next episode of Total Drama OUTRAGE.


	6. Chapter 6: Escape From Robot Island

**Total Drama Outrage**

**Chapter 6: Escape from Robot Island**

**Forgotten Depths of the Ocean**

Several days had passed since the gong was struck before something enormous shifted beneath the waves, unfurling with slow, ponderous movements. It began to drift lazily towards a certain island, a beacon sounding in its long dormant mind. Despite the mighty distance separating them, some on the island reacted to its approach…

* * *

**Camp Wawanakwa: The Dead of Night**

Curled up in the corner of the girl's side of the Killer Critics Cabin, a primal, animal fear startled Wolf from her slumber. She gazed around the moonlit room in a spate of panic, wild eyes probing every shadow for the source of this terrible threat. There was nothing in the room besides her sleeping teammates, lost in the enveloping mist of dreams, but strangely this didn't assay Wolf's fears. The threat was not here, but it was coming. The wild girl let out a low whine before hiding her head back under her blanket.

Despite the late hour, Donovan was wide awake. He was currently staring, of all things, at a ship in a bottle; well it was more a canoe to be honest. Despite the fact there was nothing shaking it, the water in the bottle was swishing back and forth, rocking the boat with storm like waves. While this might seem like nothing but a bizarre occurrence to anyone else, it seemed to hold great significance to Donovan. "As it was written in the Secret Story," Donovan paused as Matthew murmured hatefully in his sleep, "this was how it began."

Alice felt as though she had been blinded, deafened, rendered insensate by the sheer flood of energy that had struck the room. In an instant she was stricken of the ability that set her above others, that uncanny extra sense that let her know far more than she ought to was suddenly gone. Something immensely powerful was out there and Alice was as blind as her fellow contestants. The full moon outside didn't seem nearly as bright anymore…

* * *

**Floating Platform on Lake Wawanakwa: Crack of Dawn **

At first glance, Chris Mclean looked unruffled as he always did but if you looked closer, his carefully cultivated image of roguish charm seem strained this morning. His deck chair and other random garbage he'd scattered about while spending time lounging there in the sun was gone, replaced by a wall-length television screen and surround sound system. After finishing the last sip of his latte Chris casually blasted an air horn right into the microphone connected to the camp speaker system, unleashing a deafening blast of sound to rouse the campers. He managed a half-hearted chuckle before speaking into the microphone in a strangely hollow voice. "Rise and shine losers, report to Lake Wawanakwa for a vital mission briefing. Double time it, today's challenge is _really _important." Announcement over with, Chris scowled into his empty coffee mug, "Interns!"

* * *

**Screaming Fans Cabin: Girl's Side**

"Chris didn't seem quite himself this morning," mused Cynthia as she got herself dressed to face the day. "I mean the rude wakeup call was all him but his voice? Not half as vindictive as usual if you ask me, not at all. What do you think Alice?" The psychic girl was in a sort of daze and several moments passed before she turned to look at Cynthia, a hopelessly lost expression in her eyes.

"I really don't know," she replied fretfully, "I can't sense a thing since I woke up suddenly last night to the most curious feeling. Like the room was awash with an unnatural energy."

"Did some evil spirit sneak in here and steal your power?" Sandra snickered, "tell Stacey so she can file a police report. Missing: One Psychic Ability; stolen by suspects unknown."

"Don't joke about official police business," snapped Sandra, "this island is already rife with theft. Just the other day Everett was telling me how all his security equipment was stolen, I mean I'm sure it was all highly illegal stuff but still, there's a thief loose on this island."

"That's a great theory!" Sandra congratulated her sarcastically, "shame the only proof you have is the absolute garbage a paranoid lunatic told you. He probably thinks that a camera can steal his soul for pity's sake."

"Well yes, he does seem a little unreliable," agreed Cynthia, "has anyone else reported anything missing?" When Stacey had no response they all instinctively turned around to look at Alice, expecting some sort of psychic knowledge. The girl looked back at them helplessly and could only offer them a shrug.

"Sorry, I really can't predict things anymore."

* * *

**Floating Platform on Lake Wawanakwa: Sometime after the Crack of Dawn**

Several hastily consumed lattes later, Chris finally had all the remaining thirteen contestants in Camp Wawanakwa arranged along the edge of lake. Sure most of them were bleary eyed and yawning but Chris was hardly going to wait for them to wake up properly. Wolf was already pacing in tight circles and even the normally impassive Donovan looked distracted by something. "Ok campers," he started, "I've got good news and bad news for you this morning. The good news is that after our interns finally got around to checking the surveillance footage, we now know who kidnapped Chef and where he was taken."

"Wasn't it the Food Safety Authority?" asked Stacey, "They arrested him for culinary crimes?"

"Nah that was just a little joke, until recently I had no idea where Chef was. I figured he was just striking for a pay rise or something. As for the bad news_"

"Let me guess, we're supposed to rescue him?" interrupted Maria, "as part of some stupidly dangerous mission?"

"No," Chris looked annoyed at the interruption, "that's only _half_ of the bad news. The real bad news is who, or what you have to rescue him from. You'd better watch the screen." Chris hit a button on his remote and the screen came to life, displaying a surveillance camera feed.

* * *

**Old Mess Hall Kitchen: Earlier in the Season**

Chef was, as always, alone in his kitchen or his domain as he liked to call it, chopping up what was probably mutant horsemeat with a massive meat cleaver. At first the only sound audible was Chef's obnoxious out of tune whistling and the sound of cleaver hitting the chopping board but eventually a heavy thudding sound could be heard in the background. Eventually Chef himself reacted to the thudding noise as it gradually grew louder and closer, pausing with his cleaver in mid-air.

"I told you darn maggots to stay outta my kitchen!" snapped Chef without turning around. His only response was even louder thud, surely whatever was responsible for the dreadful noise must be in the kitchen, just out of the camera's range. "Stop stomping your feet like a hippo, didn't your momma ever teach you how to walk properly!" his patience finally wearing thin, Chef turned around to face the intruder. His expression shifted from one of anger to a rictus of confusion and fear. "The hell is going on here? This ain't right, I wasn't told about_" he was cut short as a metal hand, attached to an extended chain shot across the room and punched the meat cleaver right out of his hand. Before he had time to react to this a second hand shot out, seized the front of his shirt, and dragged him out of view.

The video cut to show the view from a different camera from which a hulking mechanical form could just be made out amongst the darkness before the screen faded to static.

* * *

"Chef was abducted by an evil slinky?" guessed Lauren, apparently missing the gravity of what she had just seen on the screen.

"No, it looked more like giant robot," said Marshall, also sounding strangely calm. "And its arms were definitely chains not slinkies."

"Let me get this straight," said Heidi, "you want _us_, to rescue Chef from _that?_"

"Yep," replied Chris with false cheer in his voice, "I am sending you after the giant mechanical horror and presumably more if its kind for today's challenge."

"Good! I HATE robots!" shouted Matthew.

"That's the spirit, now if you head down to the beach_"

"Hold on," interrupted Stacey, "shouldn't professionals handle this? Like the police or the army?"

"Don't worry; I have complete faith in your ability to take on an army of rogue robots… NOT! If you do get horribly injured, maimed, crippled, killed etcetera I have some pirates on standby to attempt a rescue. With any luck they should be able to free Chef and any of you that are still alive. I can't say they'll return you to the island however, they are kind of unpredictable like that."

"You're still dealing with those pirates?" complained Sandra, "what are you going to do if they betray you?"

"That's when I send the interns in," Chris was started to get annoyed by all these constant questions. Couldn't people just jump right into a dangerous challenge without so much hassle? "There will be no police involvement until I figure out the source of these robots, what do you think will happen if I'm somehow responsible for this?"

"You'll get arrested like the criminal you are?" suggested Chance.

"Exactly, so for obvious reasons I'd like to handle this myself and by that I mean you're going to handle it. Before I was interrupted I was trying to explain that I have left weapons and armour down at the beach so you can equip yourselves. The meatball bazooka is sadly unavailable; it's undergoing maintenance after a pirate related accident."

"Then what? Stand around until the killer robot shows up?" asked Sandra.

"No, I was sent mysterious GPS coordinates corresponding with a nearby island which surely where Chef is being held. Once you are armed report to the Dock of Shame and board the boat with your team's symbol on it. From there you just need to follow the GPS instructions to the island and rescue Chef," Chris grinned like it was easiest thing in the world to do. "All clear?"

"Yes but there is one small detail we appeared to be missing," said Cynthia, "what exactly will you be doing during this challenge?" Chris let out the first real laugh he'd had all day.

"Me? I've got a plane, I'm flying a safe distance away until all of this blows over. Good luck losers! Interns! I don't care if none of you have a pilot license, hurry up and prep my plane for evacuation; I have something else to attend to first." The campers could only watch as Chris pulled out his phone, dialled a number and instantly started yammering away into it. Wolf whined softly, shaking her head.

"She's saying we're all going to die horribly," translated Heidi.

"You can speak werewolf?" asked Everett, "that's awesome!"

"I know, I'm just that good."

"Are you serious? If you insist," Chris scowled and hung up his phone, "the producers say that I also have to inform you that we have footage of other robots stealing other trivial things… like maybe some high-grade illegally modified security equipment."

"Everett's security systems!" announced Stacey, "I knew they were illegally modified!"

"The paranoid one packed his security system up," Donovan said, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Chris, "to steal it these robots you speak of would have to break into our cabin. This did not happen. His belongings were stolen from elsewhere."

"Oh I'm sorry Mr Sleeps-With-One-Open," sneered Chris, "I forgot that nothing ever gets past your mad ninja senses. Of course the stuff was stolen from your cabin! Geez, only one of you is supposed to be a paranoid maniac here. Anyway, because Everett is one Fruit Loop short of a cereal bowl I'm supposed to warn you that his stolen equipment can and probably have been rigged with explosives, lasers and noxious gas canisters." As one the other campers turned to look at Everett incredulously. The boy just shrugged.

"Hey, you never who might be sneaking around," was all he said.

"Well a fat lot of good it did against the thieving robot legions," complained Maria, "typical."

"And just when I thought this challenge couldn't get any worse," said Chance, "the robots were bad enough, now whoever sent them has a lethal security system."

"You people are such babies, just get to the beach already, daylights wasting!" Chris' phone rang again but this time he firmly ignored it. "Scram!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Sandra: If I know Chris Mclean these 'weapons' he's left behind for us will be a bunch of sharp sticks and some slingshots. I mean that's fine and all if we only fight small robots but what if we run into that huge one from the video? I'm heading back to the cabin to get my scientific supplies; science is the only real weapon we'll have against these things.**

**Heidi: I know I'm supposed to be nervous and all but this challenge was practically made for our team. Maria studies robotics at school and it's Everett's security system so he must know how to put a stop to it.**

**Maria: I hope nobody expects that I learnt how to stop giant robots in class. Making a brick sized robot drive in a circle, sure. Stopping the Slinky from Hell? Yeah not so much confidence in that field.**

**Everett: Just between me and the entire viewing audience, I haven't got the foggiest idea how that security system works. It took me months just to figure out how to sound the alarms never mind all those lethal weapons you can rig up to it. I never read the instruction manual ok?**

**Alice: The universe certainly has a cruel sense of timing; I have been struck blind right before we enter the most danger. We'll just have to hope that those robots are weaker than they look.**

**Marshall: I've got no problem with fighting robots, well as long as they don't have artificial intelligence. Maybe Donovan will finally get off my back and stop accusing me of being a weak pacifist if I smash enough robots. Is it so hard to accept that I follow a code?**

**Matthew: I never completed my curtain rod of doom, RAGE! Now I'll have to use whatever stupid weapons Chris left us. They better be useful, I HATE useless weapons.**

**Lauren: I've always wondered, can an android actually feel emotion or is it only ever simulating it? That's something to think about at night.**

* * *

**The Beach**

Chris seemed to have just dumped everything that could reasonably be considered a weapon in a huge pile on the sand. Or, judging by the similarity of how they'd found the furniture in the previous challenge, Chris had put yet more pirates on the job. Seriously, Mclean's money was probably funding worldwide pirate operations at this point. There were the slingshots Sandra predicted along with paintball guns, several bows, a fire extinguisher and a kitchen blow torch. There was an absence of pointed sticks but it was more than made up for by the presence of baseball bats, golf clubs, hockey sticks and in one case a plastic lightsaber. For some extra firepower the pirates had also generously donated the feared half-brick in a sock and a sack of doorknobs, it was a truly mighty arsenal of robot fighting weaponry.

The armour Chris had scavenged for them was a hodgepodge of kitchen implements and gear he seemed to have looted from a renaissance faire. Various pots and pans lay atop shirts of chainmail and hardened leather. An apologetic sign had been left behind by the pirates delivering the haul that read; _I know you wanted to the campers to be able to dress up as heroic knights but we only managed to nick a few pieces of armour before we got thrown out of the faire. Had to raid a kitchen and a local sports supply store instead, many apologies, Pirates._ As usual the pirates had proven rather unreliable, unless you were relying on them being unreliable because they were reliable at that at least. This would be all the campers had to defend themselves against whatever waited on the island.

"The robots will not fear you, so you must not fear them," Donovan told his teammates as he prepared for battle. It was easy for him to say, since he appeared to have got the only decent equipment and looked like a demon of war complete with a horned helmet and spiked shoulder guards. "You must be prepared for both ranged and melee combat, we do not know what every robot is capable of."

"Is that why you're intending to use your hockey stick as a slingshot?" asked Lauren, she had armed herself with a paintball gun on the grounds of it being such an artistic weapon. "Seems a rather strange sort of weapon if you ask me, but strange weapons are good."

"Indeed, strange weapons for a strange enemy!" declared Everett, his cap replaced by a helmet crafted from tinfoil. Its primary defence seemed to be reflecting sunlight to blind anyone who tried to hit you. "Have any of you seen some mirrors around here? I need some to them to reflect laser blasts."

"Ha! I don't even need armour," bragged Matthew, "I can go into a berserk rage and not even feel pain." True to his word, Matthew was just wearing his normal outfit; at least he'd armed himself with another baseball bat, since his first one had been destroyed by a flaming meatball. "I'm invincible and_" his boasting fest was cut short when a rock smacked into the back of his head. "Yowch!" he whirled around to glare at Sandra who was casually loading another stone into her slingshot. "That doesn't count! I wasn't angry yet!" The next rock caught him right on the forehead, needless to say, it still hurt.

"Once again, science has proven that you are not in fact a berserker," she told him, "perhaps you ought to kill a wolf and wear its skin over your head to channel animal rage." Like Matthew, the science obsessed girl wasn't wearing any armour; she did have a massive backpack though, presumably stocked with her weapons of science.

"Who wants to kill Wolf!?" demanded Stacey, waving her police baton around threateningly, overhearing some of the conversation, "and skin her too? That's interfering with a corpse; you'll go away for a long time for that sort of thing." Wolf too seemed extremely interested in hearing who was trying to kill her and let out a menacing growl, glaring at each of the campers in turn.

"She says anyone who tries to kill her will get torn apart," Heidi translated distractedly as she gazed into a mirror she'd found amongst the weapon pile. "I don't know if this leather armour suits me," she said worriedly, "what do you think?"

"It looks fine," said Maria as she selected arrows for her bow, "Everett could use that mirror when you're done with it."

"Nope, I'm good," replied Everett, he'd managed to find some armour covered in countless mirrored panels. Between that and his new helmet, it was near impossible to look at him without going blind.

"See now that's smart," said Chance, "if it doesn't affect the robots at least the pirates won't be able to kidnap him without burning their eyes out of their sockets." The card shark took an experimental swing with his golf club, sending a golf ball soaring out over the ocean. "And he wins the golf tournament with a flawless shot, the crowd goes wild."

"Playing golf is a much safer way to earn a million dollars than playing in this game show," said Alice, trying her best to give advice even without powers. "Weapons are bad for your soul; I shall simply negotiate with these robots if I come across them. I'm sure they will peacefully release Chef."

"With enough training your body can become a weapon," said Marshall calmly, the martial artist was peacefully meditating amidst the scramble for weapons and armour. "Or you can be like Cynthia and always carry a concealed sword with you."

"Among other things," Cynthia observed mildly, anyone who had tried to lift her cane would attest it was far heavier than it looked. Most assumed that was something to do with the sword in there but apparently Cynthia had even more tricks than that. "You can be armed and look civilised, it's an art."

* * *

**The Chris Mclean Ace Aircraft Hangar**

A spanner had been thrown into the works of Chris Mclean's plan to escape the island. The interns had neglected to show him the video footage of robots destroying his plane. The now stranded game show host stood amongst the wreckage of his prized aircraft, almost trembling with rage. "You couldn't you destroy the stupid aircraft simulator could you!?" he raged at thin air, "all those great memories of flying over the cabins at the crack of dawn and annoying the hell out of contestants, all gone!" The interns Chris had ordered to prep the plane for evacuation were struggling to tape and glue the various parts back together without much success. Chris seized his microphone and furiously addressed the contestants who were still on the beach through the speaker system.

"I know the original challenge was to free Chef but those robots destroyed something I love, get your butts off that beach and smash every single robot you see! Then find the clown responsible for this mess and drag them back to camp!" Announcement over with, Chris turned back to look at the hapless interns who still attempting to rebuild his plane. "Interns, bring me my jetpack! And fetch the prototype Meatball Bazooka Version Two."

"But sir it hasn't been tested_"

"I don't care! Those robots are gonna pay!"

* * *

**Robot Island: The only accessible harbour **

Perched on a high rock was a tall robot that seemed to consist entirely of a massive mechanical eyeball propped on top of three long and spindly legs. It easily detected two speed boats approaching and categorised by their relative threat level. It could identify relatively little about the first of the boats other than the fact there appear to be a figure made of blazing light on board. Its programming didn't contain any data on figures made of light so it was classified as low threat; the second boat on the other hand appeared to have some sort of trebuchet set up on it. The symbol painted onto the boat came up in the database as belonging to The Screaming Fans as was listed as an enemy organisation. The watchbot sent back its report to the central terminal. Screaming Fans approaching at high speed, equipped with archaic siege weapon, threat level moderate.

* * *

**Screaming Fans Speed Boat: The Ocean**

"Enemy sighted," warned Stacey, looking through her standard police issue binoculars. "I'd say it's some sort of sentry. Do we want to fire on it?"

"Hell yeah we want to fire on it!" said Sandra, "we're supposed to destroy every robot remember? Stop the boat." The speedboat sputtered to a halt and Sandra began adjusting settings on her mechanical trebuchet, a device she'd supposedly built to experiment with projectile motion for a school assignment. "The robot is motionless but we need to compensate for the tidal movements our craft is experiencing," she explained, "pass me one of the resilient spheres would you?"

"I always half-expect everything you build to explode in my face," muttered Chance as he picked up a metallic sphere and handed it to Sandra. "It doesn't do much for my nerves."

"Don't worry it, there's no explosives in that sphere," Sandra assured him as she loaded the weapon, "prepare to be amazed by the power of science." There was a whir as the trebuchet whipped into forward motion sending the metallic sphere soaring into the sky in a perfect arc. When the sphere was just above directly over the robot's massive eyeball Sandra pressed a button on the side of the trebuchet and the sphere opened mid-flight, releasing its corrosive contents. The two halves of the sphere clattered off into the distance while the robot was doused in strong acid. Clouds of acrid smoke began to rise off the robot's casing and you could almost hear it hissing and sizzling in the distance. Several seconds passed before enough of the machine's circuitry had been destroyed and the thing toppled forward to crash in a smoking heap on the beach.

"Woohoo! First blood to the Screaming Fans!" Marshall cheered, "Greatest warriors in the world."

"I don't think robots have blood," observed Alice, "and I really wish you'd let me speak with them first, they might be friendly."

"Alice my dear, I'd say those robots are just about as friendly as Sandra," said Cynthia, "no offence meant to you my scientist friend but you are rather quick to resort to violence."

"Quick to resort to science," corrected Sandra, "there's difference, now we need to get this boat moving again quick smart. The Critics have overtaken up."

"Actually it might be a better idea to get this boat moving slow stupid," suggested Chance, "let the Killer Critics trigger whatever unpleasant surprise is waiting on the beach."

"That's hardly sporting of us," protested Cynthia.

"Well we aren't athletes," Sandra replied grimly, "let's let them land first."

* * *

**Killer Critics Speed Boat: Rapidly Approaching the Shore of Robot Island**

"Ha! Look at that, the Screaming Fans killed one of them!" called out Heidi, pointing at the spindly form of the robot crashing to land amongst the sand. "If they can pull it off we can too."

"They didn't kill the robot; it was never alive," said Lauren, "unless of course you believe that machines can gain a sentience of their own if left for long enough."

"Of course they do, my toaster is always trying to kill me," explained Everett, "I was looking into to see when the toast would come out and BAM it shot me right in the eye."

"Cease such foolish prattle, we will come ashore in mere moments, Donovan warned them, "Paranoid one, tell us how best to handle your security system."

"There'll be proximity sensors that'll probably go off the moment we set foot on the beach; I'd advise using some sort of projectile to set it off early. That way if anything nasty crops up we can turn the boat around and plan a way around it."

"That sounds surprisingly sane," agreed Maria, "I'll stop_" before she had a chance to cut the engine, Wolf gave out a chilling howl and hurled herself off the boat and struck out for the shore.

"Keep the boat moving!" roared Matthew, "I HATE it when my teammates are left at the mercy of insane security systems without any backup!" Donovan looked like he was about to argue but he never got the chance as Wolf left the water and started up the beach at a loping run. A blaring alarm rang out and there was an explosion of sand in front of the wild girl as a bipedal robot with boxing glove hands burst up from the ground. One of its fists rocketed out to strike at the girl but she nimbly leapt aside, snarling furiously.

"Leave Wolf alone!" the robot's head, containing one multifaceted eye swivelled around to observe a blindingly bright figure. It ran the name Wolf through its database and it matched up with an organisation known as the Killer Critics, they were labelled as traitors. The boxing robot abandoned its attempts to strike Wolf and bounded towards Everett with his mirrored armour. The boy tried to swing his battery operated glowing plastic lightsaber but a punch caught him right in the chest sending him sprawling against the sand with the sound of shattering mirrors. The second boxing glove shot out and smashed right into Everett's fallen lightsaber, shattering the toy.

"I HATE robots!" in an instant Matthew lunged into the fray, battering the robot with a hail of strikes from the baseball bats he was duel wielding, pushing it back from the crumpled pile of shattered mirrors that was Everett. "Everett, take a real weapon," Matthew hurled his second baseball in Everett's general direction in a matter of seconds but even in that short time period, the robot was back in his face with a whirlwind of hurtling fists. Matthew was off balance now and took several glancing strikes. Wolf hurled herself against the side of the robot and used her full weight to topple it. With a wordless cry of rage Matthew battered at the fallen boxing robot until it was utterly broken.

"One down," groaned the now not so reflective Everett, using the baseball bat Matthew had given him as a walking stick to push himself back upright. "Now get back to the boat before_" a paintball whistled over his head and splattered into yet another rapidly approaching robot that had emerged from the sand. It was a menacing mechanical wolf, covered with metal spines and bounding towards them at an alarming rate.

"Wolfbot inbound!" shouted Lauren, "it's like Wolf only made of metal and it actually has the body of a wolf."

"So nothing at all like Wolf then," said Maria, letting an arrow fly and watching it clang ineffectively off the Wolfbot's armour. Deciding it was time to intervene in this battle Donovan leapt off the boat and ran headlong towards the enemy. The giant in spiked armour charging a mechanical wolf, neither changing course until it was too late. The two crashed together in a shower of sparks, sharp spines ripped into Donovan but the Wolfbot came off worse, bowled over and struck repeatedly with a hockey stick. However, instead of striking it until he was sure it was destroyed, Donovan backed away, giving the Wolfbot time to get back on its four paws.

"You managed to wound me," Donovan appeared to be speaking to the Wolfbot while he examined the cuts along the unarmoured sections of his body. "You are a worthy opponent; you have earned the right to try again."

"He's talking to a freaking robot!" exclaimed Maria, "we don't have time for this."

"Screw your honourable warrior crap!" snarled Heidi, appearing as if out of nowhere and bringing her half-brick in a sock smashing down on the Wolfbot's head. Sparks flew everywhere and the robot was finally motionless. "Don't you understand these things are trying to kill us!?"

"Again you show your cowardice, all foes who fight well deserve respect, whether man or machine."

"You just ran into each other and got a couple cuts, that wasn't fighting well!"

"Would I be so injured if I had run into you?"

"You'll find out in a minute!"

"Can we please get back on the boat!?" demanded Everett, his tinfoil hat askew and his mirrored armour mangled beyond recognition. "Before something else gets triggered and we all die!" At the moment the Screaming Fans arrived in there boat and surveyed with varying degrees of impressed looks.

"You're in the lead at the minute, two robots dead to our one," Marshall told them like keeping track of the score was somehow even remotely relevant in this death defying situation.

"We'll change that soon though," Sandra said in her matter of fact voice, "from what I saw there this beach is littered with pressure plates or motion sensors, activating hidden robots. We should activate all of them at once."

"Which would be suicide," Lauren added cheerfully, "now what's your real plan? Did anyone bring some candy to bribe them?"

"That _is_ my real plan; I'm hoping the sensors are also designed to respond to sound because I brought an air horn along." Heidi had made her way back beside Maria and nudged the girl before whispering;

"Do you think that will work?"

"It's bound to," Maria said glumly, "in class we could program robots to respond to differences in light and sound really easily. Anybody as good as the person who created these robots is definitely using sonic sensors."

"I like this plan," Donovan agreed suddenly, "it will be a good battle, you may commence."

"This isn't democracy," complained Matthew, "I HATE autocracy!"

"I'll tell you what this is, reckless endangerment!" snapped Stacey, "Don't you dare touch that air horn."

"Death to tyrants, shoot her!" Matthew snatched Lauren's paintball gun and fired. Red paint blossomed across the Sandra's lab coat and she fell backwards in shock, crashing into her trebuchet as she did so. The weapon whirred into life unexpectedly and launched a sphere at random. There was one path leading up from the beach, a narrow track cut between two steep cliff sides leading up to a high plateau. The sphere landed exactly at the start of this track and that's went everything went to hell, well even further into hell anyhow. The impact of the sphere had triggered an explosive defence mechanism and the great chunks of stone were ripped from the cliffs in a howling torrent of smoke and flame. Activated either by the sound of the explosion or by seismic activity in the wake of the blast, more robots of all shapes and sizes burst up from the sand and advanced on the shocked teenagers. "Cover me!" Matthew thrust the stolen paintball gun back at Lauren and charged down the beach with a wordless cry of rage.

"Cover him? In paint?" wondered Lauren, "that seems counterproductive. I'll_" Stacey had managed to cross the space between the two boats without anyone noticing and for the second time that day, snatched the gun from Lauren.

"This weapon was used in an assault on my teammate; I'll have to confiscate it for my investigation." Considering that such an investigation would be utterly pointless in light of the fact every man and his dog had seen Matthew take the shot in broad daylight, it looked more like Stacey was trying to avoid having to fight on the beach. It was easy to imagine why Stacey would be so reluctant. In the few moments after Matthew's enraged charge the beach had turned into a chaotic battlefield, contestants and robots fighting left, right and centre.

Fortunately others didn't have nearly as many reservations, there was an almighty crash as Donovan collided with a steel golem and two began to grapple. Elsewhere Wolf clung to the back of a scurrying mechanical reptile, beating her fists ineffectively against its metal scales. Marshall was in the midst of a crowd of ninjabots, battering left and right with an oar that had been left on the speedboat in case of emergencies while Chance and Sandra remained in the boat, pelting robots with the acid-loaded spheres. Even Cynthia had extended the sword from her cane and was duelling a robot with bladed arms.

"Listen to me, you are not a slave to your programming," Alice had found the evil extendable slinky arm bot that had kidnapped Chef and was trying to reason with it. "You are a free robot; you do not have to obey any commands to hurt us."

"No negotiations will be held with Screaming Fan enemies, you are not on my team. Get out of my sensory range or I will be forced remove you from it permanently."

"Not on your team?" asked Alice, apparently deciding that the robot's threat wasn't overly serious. "But you aren't a Killer Critic either. In fact, you're not even a contestant; I would have noticed a robot in the game. I mean Everett keeps hassling that Maria girl about being an android but_"

"You are associated with the Killer Critic traitor Maria? Your time is up." The robot lurched towards her, the chains of its ballistic arms clanking before; BOOM, its entire head and torso vanished in a flash of light and heat.

"Found the explosive arrow heads!" announced Maria proudly, "I knew this weapon couldn't be totally useless. " She fired off another arrow at a giant mechanical spider only for it to bounce off uselessly like Maria's arrows usually did. "Shame they look exactly the same as normal arrows, means I have no idea what I'm firing." Thankfully other members of her team were still fighting the spider so her failed attack didn't draw its attention. Matthew's deranged shouting was distracting it quite handily.

"I HATE spiders and spiders HATE gravity, that's what the eight legs are for, defying gravity!" shouted Matthew as he dodged one of the aforementioned legs and started wailing on it with his baseball bat. "Break the legs, bring it down!" Everett was also dodging around the ceaselessly stamping legs in a sort of deranged dance but when he slowed down in order to follow Matthew's instructions a flailing leg clipped and sent him flying across the sand. His tinfoil helmet, already in a precarious position before Everett had been struck, sailed off his head and landed in front of the spider, catching the sunlight with a brilliant flash. The robotic spider momentarily gave up its attempt to crush Matthew and lowered itself to attack the tinfoil hat, mangling it with ferocious steel mandibles.

"Ha! You suck, robot!" Heidi leapt out from behind a sand dune and brought her half-brick against the spider's face, shattering the glowing red panels resembling eyes. With a very unspiderlike shriek the thing tried to scrabble backwards but its weakened legs gave out thanks to Matthew's efforts. While Matthew worked the finish the spider off and Everett remain sprawled on the sand, staring up at sky with a dazed expression, Heidi waved her hands to flag down Lauren.

"Shoot the lizard Wolf is hanging off in the face! You can blind these things!" she shouted desperately

"Perhaps so, but a robot cannot be blinded like a human," Lauren, who had retrieved her weapon, still had time for philosophy in the middle of battle when no one could hear her. "Unless we agree that the dysfunction of its visual sensors equate to our human concept of violence. It's something to think about anyway." Bizarre philosophy session over, Lauren fired in the general direction of the robot lizard without even aiming and seemed largely unsurprised when her paintball exploded right in its face. "The moment you stop trying so hard is the time you are most likely to succeed, I just cut straight to the chase." Surely enough, Heidi's advice worked out and the lizard, with no idea where it was going ploughed straight into rocky outcropping and collapsed in a shower of sparks. Wolf jumped away from its body and howled victoriously.

"Stop firing that thing!" complained Stacey, trying to snatch it back off her, "I told you that I'm confiscating as part of my investigation!"

"You really should help us fight the robots," Lauren told her mildly, refusing to give up her paintball gun again.

"There aren't any robots here," Stacey lied rather blatantly, "have you been consuming illicit substances?" As if the universe really felt like disproving her, a robotic bat swooped out of the sky above her. She shrieked in disgust, swiping the thing out of the sky with her police baton but managing to tumble over the side of the boat and into the surf in the process, finally getting her out of Lauren's hair.

"The aliens! The aliens are coming!" shouted Everett; the boy was back on his feet and waving his hands desperately for attention. Unfortunately, in the midst of robot death battle no one had the time to decode his ramblings and he was ignored. Well he was ignored by the contestants at least, his shouting did catch the attention of spiky metal sphere and it hurtled towards him. Everett was only just able to jump out of its way, striking at it with his baseball as it went past. "Someone stop that flying saucer!"

"Has he flipped out _again_," groaned Maria as she fumbled around looking for another arrow, "now is not the time for him to start shouting about aliens."

"I know, great psychological warfare and all, designing a robot that looked like an alien. It's like the creator knew Everett or something," replied Lauren, the artist casually firing into the crowd of ninjabots Marshall was still fighting.

"Not you as well!? What on earth are you talking about?"

"The hovering silver disc over there," Lauren pointed out where there was in fact a replica flying saucer hovering a short distance above the sand. As Maria watched, the disc decided on a course and zoomed straight for Wolf, blades emerging from its rim. The girl was still in the midst of her triumphant howling and barking, totally oblivious both to the battle still raging around her and the imminent danger.

"Damn! There actually is a flying saucer!" shouted Maria, hoping someone would pay attention to her even if they dismissed Everett as crazy. "Coming after Wolf." Donovan, looking slightly worse after throwing himself into the heat of battle, responded to her call and hefted up the battered remains of the robot he'd just finished pummelling and hurled it as easily as one might throw a paper plane. The remains arced lazily through the air and ended up into the disc's pathway. There was a tangled crunching sound as the two objects collided followed by a mechanical scream as the disc effectively tore itself apart. Wolf turned around at the noise and though that she'd somehow destroyed those robots as well, grinning proudly.

At last the tide of the battle was turning in their favour. From their position in the Screaming Fan speedboat Chance and Stacey had doused dozens of robots in acids and other destructive substances and their latest deluge had just cleared out the last of ninjabots, freeing Marshall to assist Cynthia. The young martial lashed out and kicked the blade-armed robot, drawing its attention and distracting it at a crucial moment. The blade of Cynthia's sword cane flashing in the sunlight as it whipped through the air and neatly decapitated the robot, revealing a mess of wires as it fell limply to its knees. Along the rest of the beach the last of the fights were wrapping up, leaving behind a graveyard of strewn metal scraps and exposed wires. Shell-shocked contestants wandered the beach or stood motionless, still not quite processing what they had just been through an unwilling to break the eerie silence that had formed. Wolf finally broke the silence by letting out a long mournful howl that seemed rather fitting considering the current scene.

"This was good day," rumbled Donovan, sounding like a general addressing his troops after a hard battle. The towering boy was covered in cuts and bruises and several of the spikes on his armour had somehow been torn off during the fighting but it didn't diminish his commanding presence. "Many of you found strength today in combat; you will be better for what you have experienced today."

"Shove it Donovan!" snapped Heidi, determined to disagree with everything he said until she received an apology about the whole assassin thing. "You may of wanted this fight but other than you and little miss scientist over there none of us particularly wanted to have a horde of robots trying to tear us apart."

"Don't get on my back," said Sandra, "I only threatened to start the robotic onslaught, it only happened because Matthew thought it was a brilliant idea to shoot me with a paintball while I was standing next to volatile equipment."

"Death to tyrants!" repeated Matthew, obviously expressing no regrets, "I HATE autocrats."

"He was doing the right thing, trying to prevent a crime from taking place," Stacey stumbled out of the water in her soaking wet uniform, surprising everyone by defending Matthew.

"That's rather strange, didn't you say he was violent drug addled thug?" asked Alice curiously, "or did I only see that in a vision before I lost my powers?"

"Hearsay, slander!" protested Stacey, "besides, Matthew is more of a vigilante, trying to deliver justice but still breaking the law."

"Look, can we move this along?" asked Maria, "before Matthew decides he's Batman or something and tries to put a stop to Chance's illegal gambling ring."

"There's nothing illegal about it!" denied Chance hotly, "It's not my fault I always win."

"I also feel we should not allow ourselves to be side-tracked," interrupted Cynthia, "but as you can see our only safe path further inland was blocked off by the explosion."

"This island isn't that large either," stated Marshall, "the joker responsible for all this is probably just up that path, laughing his head off."

"Then we will just have to climb the cliff face, destroy whatever is lurking up there, free Chef and capture his assailant," said Donovan, like it would it be the simplest thing in the world to do.

"Uh yeah there might be a problem with that," started Everett, "Lauren could you please shot anywhere on the cliff face?" The artist didn't ask any questions and simply followed his request and shot at the cliff. The moment the paint ball struck the rocks a bright red laser lanced out and burnt the sand inches from where she was standing. "Remember the security system? That cliff face is going to be trapped as all hell, good luck climbing that."

"Great, well at least it can't get any worse," said Heidi, "between the robots and the_"

"No! You shouldn't have said now that, the universe takes it as a challenge!" Everett groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"There is absolutely no scientific proof of that kind of thing ever happening," countered Sandra, "it's just more superstitious nonsense and even Alice has stopped pretending to be a psychic so you have no reason to keep up_" A pillar of brilliant white fire speared up from elsewhere on the island and burned a hole through the clouds above. There was the sound of a thousand lions roaring and then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the pillar of flame vanished from existence. "Coincidence!" tried Sandra rather lamely and when she saw nobody was buying and tried to forget it had ever happened via the time honoured tradition of changing the subject, "Soooo, any bright ideas about how we're going to get up that booby trapped cliff?"

* * *

**The Insanely Booby Trapped Cliff Face**

The concept of opposing teams and trying to 'win' the challenge had gone out the window in the face of how insanely dangerous the situation Chris had forced them into was. As such, the Killer Critics and Screaming Fans had temporarily dissolved and banded together in order to scale the cliff without someone dying horribly. Cynthia had revealed yet another one of her tricks by firing a grappling hook attached to a steel cable out of her multifunctional cane and trying to lodge it in a safe place near the top of the cliff. Of course this took several tries as laser beams, explosions, clouds of gas and minor landslides were triggered every time the grappling hook landed in a trapped location. Even when the grappling hook was successfully caught at the top of the cliff there was still the matter of the climbing the thing when every hand or foothold could potentially kill you.

"Well we could always try to climb straight up the cable without touching anything on the cliff face?" suggested Heidi, despite how such a feat would be practically impossible.

"Wrong angle," Sandra shook her head, "Cynthia would have to move way back down the beach and fire it again so we had the hypotenuse of a triangle to climb. That way we could travel a great distance diagonally into the air with minimal contact with the cliff but even then the final stretch of the climb would still bring us far too close to touching some trapped rocks," Sandra had carefully drawn a diagram of this exact scenario in the sand with a stick of driftwood. Heidi looked at it with the gaze of someone trying to decipher ancient hieroglyphics before giving up on the idea entirely.

"Forget I said anything."

"Listen, not all of the traps are permanent right?" said Maria, "I'm sure both our teams brought spare ranged weapons along so we can just bombard the area around the cable with everything we've got in the hope of setting everything dangerous off."

"Sounds fine to me," agreed Chance, "we can mark the permanent ones like the laser turrets out with paint and destroy them with acid afterwards."

"That is the cowards path," disagreed Donovan, "we should face death head on and climb with the knowledge that one wrong move could be the end of us. Our victory will contain far more meaning then."

"Donovan… Nobody cares ok?" said Marshall, "can we get moving with the only sane plan I've heard all day? And this only gets the title because nobody has suggested getting straight back on the boats and leaving this island and the whole stupid show behind."

"We could get back on the boats and leave this island and the whole stupid show behind," offered Alice obligingly, "I don't need my powers to tell you that's probably the least dangerous option we have today."

"Yeah, but it's also the option that means we lose ONE MILLION DOLLARS!" shouted Matthew, "I HATE losing large sums of money!" With that rather vehement refusal to leave out of the way and no further complaints forthcoming, the campers moved back a safe, well safer, distance back from the cliff and organised their ranged weapons.

"Remember; focus on the area around the cable," said Cynthia, "Fire at will," her words prompted bombardment of paintballs, rocks and arrows against the cliff face. The security system responding with a hail of laser fire and explosives rent craters in the stone, the flames igniting pockets of gas. Wherever a laser turret was located, Sandra pelted it with one of her acid spheres. It took several minutes before no more defensive measures were triggering in that area and the effort had made some rather drastic changes. Rivers of paint were trickling were down the cliff face, flooding various craters and painting the rocks a bizarre hodgepodge of colours. It looked a bit like an alien landscape that Lauren might paint in her spare time. "So," said Cynthia, breaking the silence that had settled in the aftermath of their bombardment, "who wants to climb up first?"

You might expect there to be nothing other than yet another battalion of violent robots waiting at the top of the cliff and one point in time that might have been true. However, that point was before the cleansing pillar of white fire had devastated much of the island in a surge of blinding heat. The plateau above the cliffs had once been covered in grass and boasted its own grove of trees, now it was more a scorched desert, littered with the remains of superheated metal scraps. Contrary to the superstitious beliefs of the contestants currently scaling the cliff face, the fire had not in fact been things getting worse, rather the fact it had destroyed the robots waiting up there was a vast improvement on things. Well an improvement for their chances of getting off the island alive that is, from an ecological standpoint everything that had occurred today was a disaster.

There was the mechanical rumbling of gears beneath the ground before a large square patch of the scorched earth split open and steel platform rose up from the ground. The most noticeable thing on the platform was the heavy metal cage containing Chef, but this was mostly because he was making an almighty racket. "Get me out of this cage you slack-jawed bootlicking scrawny maggots! I've been stuck in here for days Mclean! Don't think that's an excuse not to pay me either or so help me I will string you up by your bootlaces boy!"

"Silence!" snapped the second individual on the platform, an imposing figured encased in a seven foot tall mech suit. "Lord Awesome the Robot Master requires time to concoct a new, greater plan."

"Your robots are all destroyed, it's over maggot! Now let me out of this cage NOW!" demanded Chef. The so-called Lord Awesome the Robot Master (let's call him LARM) ignored this request, as he had noticed the grappling hook on the edge of the plateau, hopped down from the platform and went over to investigate. He never made it quite to the edge of the plateau; Marshall hauled himself over the edge plateau before he arrived. The young martial artist took one look at LARM's robotic appearance and thought it was better to be safe rather than sorry and charged the mech suit, swinging out with a haymaker punch. The moment his fist made contact with the steel there was the sound of every single one of his knuckles cracking simultaneously before the boy doubled over in pain. LARM callously kicked Marshall aside without a second thought and turned to face the other contestants who were scrambling up over the side of the cliff.

"And so the rest of the enemies and traitors scurry up the mountain side in a desperate bid to challenge," there was something familiar about the voice as LARM spoke, like he was someone they knew disguising his voice behind a ridiculous accent. "I have dispatched your greatest fighter in mere moments. Surrender now and admit that I am the true winner of Total Drama Outrage and owner of one million dollars!"

"How about no Captain Robofreak," spat Sandra, "you aren't even a contestant, no way are you the winner of anything but biggest overreaction of the year."

"No, don't antagonise him!" pleaded Alice, "There's a way to resolve this peacefully, I'm sure I know what's going on here but there's just a few pieces missing. I can solve this." Of course among her fellow contestants, none particularly renowned for their patience and Matthew in particular wasn't overly fond of peaceful resolutions either to be honest so it was unsurprising that he ignored her and went on a reckless charge instead. LARM just laughed and swatted the berserker aside, sending him rolling across the ground to stop in a heap.

"You were supposed to be my ally but you failed!" shouted LARM, advancing menacingly on Matthew's prone form. He looked as though he was about to stomp on the boy but before he got a chance Stacey cannoned into him and began striking wildly with her police baton.

"I am an officer of the law and you will not harm anyone else on my watch!" she shouted, ignoring how largely ineffective her attacks were against the mech suit.

"Get back, foolish enemy!" LARM took a swipe at her but she managed to leap back out of the way, clubbing at his arm as she did so. Thankfully that was enough to kick some of the others into gear. Donovan, Heidi, Chance, Everett and Wolf jumped in to back up Stacey, assisting her in distracting LARM while Sandra grabbed an acid sphere and made a dash for the metal platform, hoping to free Chef. "I don't think so," LARM barged his way through his assailants and scattered them like tenpins to go after Sandra. As fell Donovan managed to reach out and grab LARM's leg, slowing him down just long enough for a panicked Sandra to hurl the acid sphere at him instead. Time seemed to move in slow motion as the sphere rotated open and each individual drop of its corrosive contents inched through the air. The foremost drops of acid splattered against the mech suit with a series of sibilant hisses before the main wave struck LARM.

LARM futilely brushed at the melting torso of the suit succeeding only in corroding his metal gauntlets, the individual figures melding together into a molten lump. "Activate failsafe," he barked, finally giving up. A cloud of smoke billowed out from vents around the suit, momentarily obscuring LARM as pieces of his armour, both damaged and unscathed fell apart, dropping out of the cloud of smoke. When the smoke finally cleared the seven foot tall mech warrior was no more, no there was only the first boot Larry standing there.

"Larry!?" Maria sounded as though she could hardly believe her eyes, "but you're the laziest person I've ever met! You thought chewing your food was a waste of energy and then you suddenly build a robot army and try to kill us."

"You can kick me off the show, I don't care about that, but when you steal all my stuff and hurl me in a prison cell like a criminal, you're going to have problems," snarled Larry, all trace of his ridiculous accent gone now.

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Maria, "when you get eliminated you get sent to the Playa. What's this about a prison cell?"

"I believe I might be able to enlighten you losers on what's going on here," they looked up to see what looked like Chris Mclean hovering in the air above them with a jetpack. They couldn't be sure it was him because every inch of the host was covered in thick black soot. "What!? It was a prototype malfunction ok? Can we move onto the important revelation here?"

"Nope, not until you explain the prototype malfunction," said Sandra, "for the sake of science," she added quickly.

"Did you see that pillar of fire that obliterated most organic life on this island? That was the weapon that malfunction, stupid recoil nearly throw me into orbit."

"You used the Meatball Bazooka Version 2?" asked Chef, "that ain't right Mclean; I told you that the weapon was banned by some fancy convention thing."

"Must have missed that memo," Chris waved his hands dismissively, "I lost the stupid thing anyway, jumped right out of my hands, no one can use it anymore," he turned to glare at Larry, "especially not Dr Frankenstein over here."

"Whatever Cleanster, send me back to brig, I'll just break out again."

"I don't think so; if Larry's going anywhere it's straight to Wawanakwa Police Station to be interrogated," stated Stacey. "And quickly too, Matthew and Marshall need medical attention." The normally overly vocal berserker didn't move from the ground, only managing groan out a word that sounded vaguely like 'hate'.

"The Wawanakwa Police Station?" asked Chance scornfully, "what, you mean you're inviting Larry back to your side of the Screaming Fans cabin? That's a little forward of you_" Stacey's hurled police baton caught him right in the face.

"LOSERS DON'T GO TO THE PLAYA ANYMORE!" shouted Chris, cutting through the fight that was about to erupt and drawing the contestants' attention back to him. "There, are you going to listen to me now? To make this season extra enraging I have discontinued the practice of sending losers to the Playa and now they just thrown into the brig of a rusty old trawler anchored far out at sea."

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"No way, the Playa is the only reason half of us signed on for this stupid show!"

"You can't do this!"

"I can and I have," Chris smirked at them, "Larry here was our first prisoner before he flipped out and escaped the ship. I figured he'd just go back home but it turns out he actually stole a bunch of supplies and built a robot army. Go figure hey?"

"You stole my stuff!" spat Larry, "what was I supposed to do?"

"Um, how about not kidnap Chef and try to kill all the other contestants?" suggested Heidi, "just an idea."

"Ha! Kidnapping Chef and trying to kill you guys was great for the ratings, smashing my plane was where he crossed the line," complained Chris, "that was too far dude, way too far. Besides, I didn't steal your stuff alone, it was all Donovan's idea."

"Of course it was all my idea," admitted Donovan, a hint of pride in his voice, "I told Chris he should steal Larry's stuff for future challenges in the hope that losing his belongings would finally break his apathy. Needless to say, I have succeeded and making him stronger."

"And nearly killing all of us in the process," snapped Marshall, wincing in pain as he flexed his bruised hand, "thanks for helping."

"I'll admit, I did not expect quite this outcome, but it matters not."

"Of course you didn't expect it, I didn't tell you that Larry had only recently gotten out of an anger management program and he was only acting lazy and apathetic as his way of controlling his anger."

"The Donmeister betrayed me! I should have kidnapped him instead!" growled Larry. Chef was still shouting about needing to get released in the background but everyone was ignoring him.

"Yeah but why did you have to steal my security system," asked Everett, who had completely forgotten that he had even voted Larry off. "I didn't do anything to you."

"Your security system? I stole that from Chris' supply shed; I didn't know you owned it."

"Oh yeah, despite pretending he had nothing to do with it, Donovan told me to steal that as well," Chris explained as he nearly cracked up laughing, "I love this show so much."

"In the words of Matthew, I HATE Donovan," announced Everett angrily.

"Join the club," muttered Heidi, "he's been a jerk since day one."

"Now, on to more important business," interrupted Chris, "Larry, you will not be returning to the brig."

"He's going to join our team isn't he?" asked Chance, the gambler still rubbing his nose where Stacey's baton had struck him, "I can see you what you're planning."

"As if, he's not coming back in the game, I just need him to build me a new plane and then I'll hurl him into the brig."

"And why would I do that," asked Larry, "if I just get thrown into the brig afterwards?"

"Because your new accommodations in the boathouse are even worse!" Chris was bent double in mid-air, howling with laughter as if forcing someone to live in the boathouse was hilarious in some way. "Now since neither team managed to rescue Chef and return him to the island…"

"Ok, firstly, you didn't mention the challenge automatically ended once you showed up and secondly I tried!" protested Sandra.

"Someone get me the hell out of here!" bawled Chef, Chris sighed like the request was an unreasonable burden on him.

"Fine you big cry-baby, Sandra, melt him out would you?" While Sandra carefully lobbed an acid sphere to melt the bars of Chef's cage, the host continued speaking. "As I was saying, since none of you won the challenge before I arrived, you both lost and should by all rights be facing elimination. But… because the producers got on my back about that unscheduled double elimination last time, this will be a reward challenge where none of you are eliminated." Strangely enough no one could find the enthusiasm to cheer about that after what they had just been through.

"What's the reward?" asked Lauren, finally breaking the awkward silence following the announcement. "I like rewards."

"Chef will be too busy assisting our injured contestants in the medical tent to resume his cooking duties for the foreseeable future. That's your reward."

"Ain't nothing wrong with my cooking!" snarled the now free Chef, shaking his fist at Chris as he jumped down from the platform.

"Sorry dude, but I wouldn't even feed your cooking to my interns."

"You don't feed them at all!"

"I know, it's the kinder thing to do."

"Can we leave now? I'm not overly fond of Camp Wawanakwa but I've found that my time on this island has been rather unpleasant," said Cynthia.

"Oh yeah, you guys should probably get back to the boats pronto, back down the cliff you go. Those pirates are probably going to turn up here pretty soon and bomb this place into oblivion so I'd hurry if I were you. Oh and you'll need to give Larry and Chef a ride back to Wawanakwa, jetpack only carries one and SOMEONE destroyed my plane!"

"He was on your team!"

"We voted him off!"

"Chef's a psychopath, he'll sink the boat!"

"Haha! Have I mentioned that I love my job?" asked Chris while the contestants argued on the plateau below him. "Anyway, will Matthew recover in time for the next challenge I will I just auto eliminate him for being a fragile wimp? What are the Killer Critics going to do to Donovan now that his betrayal has come to light and will anyone think Stacey is a hero for stopping Larry from curb stomping Matthew? Most importantly, how awesome will my new plane be? To find out, tune in the next episode of Total Drama OUTRAGE!"


	7. Chap 7: The Fishing Knight of Wawanakwa

Total Drama Outrage

Chapter 7: The Fishing Knight of Wawanakwa

**Wawanakwa Police Station (AKA the Girls' Side of the Screaming Fans Cabin)**

"Right now, there is a dangerous criminal on the loose, hiding out on this very island," Stacey paced back and forth as she spoke, her arms clasped behind her back. "He's wanted for Kidnapping, Assault with a Deadly Weapon, Attempted Murder and Escape from a Correctional Facility."

"You know the Brig isn't really a correctional facility right?" asked Sandra, "It's just one of Chris Mclean's sick jokes."

"It is a location intended for the detainment of certain individuals and he escaped from so I don't care," said Stacey, "the important thing is, I'm planning an operation to storm his last reported location_"

"Last reported location?" inquired Alice, "Larry hasn't been let out if the boathouse for days, why would anybody reporting on his location when it's so obvious?"

"My police terminology is lost on you," Stacey informed her smugly, "now be quiet before I charge you with fraud. As I was about to say, this very day I am planning to raid the boathouse and finally bring the deranged criminal known as Larry to justice."

"Good for you my dear, I'm sure the capture of such a dangerous felon will do your career a great deal of good but I'm rather more concerned about getting to breakfast," said Cynthia. "If I've been following the schedule correctly I'm of the opinion that a challenge will take place today. We'll need all our strength; Chris will most certainly be itching to eliminate someone tonight."

"Breakfast!" Stacey practically shrieked the word in disgust, "you're concerned about breakfast!? I'm offering the chance for you to join the raid of the century here!"

"You mean go into the boathouse before you do in case Larry has created a murderous robot designed to decapitate anyone it claps its optical sensors on? Yeah I think I'll pass on that honour," said Sandra, turning her attention back to the chemistry textbook she was reading while lounging in bed.

"Going alone would be reckless endangerment," protested Stacey, "something you'd know all about little miss let's wake up all the killer robots at once. Surely you'll join up Cynthia? Or Alice?" There was no response from either of the girl's Alice had started meditating and Cynthia was edging towards to door. "Fine! I'll find recruits elsewhere!" The aspiring police officer stormed out of the building, slamming the door loudly behind her as she left. Cynthia looked as though she was about to leave as well but then thought better of it, deciding to wait for Stacey to get out of the area before leaving the relative safety of the cabin.

"Why would she charge me with fraud?" Alice asked suddenly, cracking one eye open to gaze over at Cynthia.

"I think it might have something to do with the whole psychic thing, you know how you suddenly claimed to lose your powers and all that? She thought you were running a scam," explained Cynthia patiently.

"Correction, she never had powers," interjected Sandra, not looking up from her textbook.

"You never had powers," observed Alice.

"Yeah but I don't run around claiming to be psychic."

"I never run around."

"Fine, walking around claiming to be a psychic."

"Thank you, that's much better."

"Are you serious?"

"I'm always serious."

"I hate this cabin, I really hate it."

* * *

**Seedy Gambling Den (AKA the Boys' Side of the Screaming Fans Cabin)**

"And I win again," announced Chance, sweeping a large number of poker chips over to his side of the trunk they were using as an impromptu poker table. "What were the odds of me getting such a perfect set?"

"Pretty damn unlikely," groused Marshall, as yet another round was adding to his steadily growing losing streak. "I don't know how you're doing it but I know you're rigging this game somehow."

"Frankly I'm offended, how could you accuse an honest man like myself of being a lowly cheat?"

"Quite easily if you_" at that moment Marshall was cut off as the door practically flew off the hinges and slammed into the cabin wall. In the next instant Stacey had burst in like that was a perfectly normal thing to do. "The hell!? You can't just barge in here."

"Actually I can, as an officer of the law I reserve the right to partake in an unannounced entrance for the purpose of catching criminal activity. As evidenced by the blatant gambling going on in this room, I'm well within my rights. But you can redeem yourselves by joining me to raid the boathouse and see Larry arrested for his crimes."

"Fine, you know what? I will play along with your demented raid plan, pointless as it is I'll get more out of than playing card with a cheater." Marshall threw his useless cards down and walked over to a startled looking Sandra. "Well then, are we going on a raid or not?"

"Uh…yes! Um follow me, no wait, I'll follow you…" the two bumbled out of the cabin leaving Chance to pack up the poker game.

"Gee thanks Stacey," grumbled Chance, "I was just about to break my record winning streak too."

* * *

**Back at the Girls' Side of the Screaming Fans Cabin (It's only a police station when Stacey is there.)**

The Girl's side of the cabin was still much the same as it was when Stacey left it, with the exception of Cynthia's absence after she had gone off to get breakfast. Alice was still peacefully meditating on her bunk bed and Sandra was still curled up with some light reading so neither of them had any warning when a thunderous knock hit the door. Unfortunately the sole purpose of that knock seemed to have been to give the girls a false sense of security because the door hurtled open without anyone asking permission to enter. Donovan strode in without any sort of hesitation and looked right at Alice.

"Green haired one, tell me if you have had any premonitions of doom recently. It is of vital importance, my whole purpose on this island may be called into question."

"You can just call me Alice you know," she told him, "and no, recently I lost all of my powers suddenly in the dead of night so I haven't sensed anything."

"That is answer enough, Green Haired One; I must speak with Chris Mclean!" Donovan whirled about and exited the room as abruptly as he had entered it, leaving a stunned silence behind him.

"Yeah, good luck with that!" Sandra eventually called after him, "man that guy is a weirdo, how does a bunch of psychic nonsense change his purpose on the island? He's just here to torment us so we get 'stronger' or something like that."

"Perhaps a great evil has been released on this island, a dread force like none have ever seen before," intoned Alice darkly, "or Donovan just had a nightmare, take your pick."

* * *

**The Boathouse **

"Dude, where's my plane?" demanded Chris, having made yet another inspection of Larry's 'project' and finding nothing done. "It's been days man, why haven't you built me an awesome plane yet?"

"Maybe because you've locked me in the freaking Boathouse without any proper tools or materials!" snapped Larry, "how do you expect me to build a plane out of dusty fishing rods and a bucket of worms!?"

"Beats me," Chris shrugged, "I'm not the guy that escaped a fishing trawler, reached an abandoned island then built a robot army."

"I stole equipment to pull that off!"

"So, then break out of here and steal some equipment."

"You've posted Sasquatchanakwa outside!"

"You forgot the man eating sharks chained into the nearby waters," Chris added helpfully, "should make it pretty hard for a prison break."

"Oh please who is going to break me out_" he was interrupted by Stacey shouting just outside the boathouse.

"Sasquatchanakwa! You are under arrest for obstructing justice, down on the ground!" her request was followed by a primal roar and an almighty thump.

"Scream of pain incoming in five, four, three, two, one…" just as Chris predicted, there was a piercing scream of pain. What he didn't predict was that it would be Sasquatchanakwa screaming. There was a series of muffled thuds before the entire front wall of the boathouse was smashed inwards, Sasquatchanakwa flying through it. Chris caught a brief glimpse of Marshall in a martial arts stance before the rest of the building went down.

"I think the reasonable force act covers that," announced Stacey, "I'll just give you a caution for the property damage though."

"Thanks, I think," replied Marshall, "but we sort of have to dig Larry out of there now before he can be arrested."

"No need!" Larry burst out of the rubble, laughing evilly and holding a can of what looked to be deodorant. "I didn't build Chris a plane, but this shark repellent I made should come in handy!" Before anyone could stop him, Larry dove into the water and vanished from sight. Miraculous the sharks circling the area not only left him alone, but outright fled in the other direction, straining against their chains.

"Suspect is on the run!" Stacey was shouting into her radio, "requesting immediate backup!"

"Is there anyone on the other side of that radio?" asked Marshall, "because_"

"I've course there's someone on the other side! I gave it to a girl I found wandering outside the Killer Critics cabin. She looked tough." The identity of this girl became immediately apparent when a series of confused barks was the only response Stacey got out of the radio.

"You gave the other radio to Wolf," Marshall shook his head, "there's no backup coming."

"Interns!" Chris emerged from the wreckage of the boathouse, covered in splinters and coughing up clouds of dust, "get Sasquatchanakwa to the medical tent! I think he sprained his ankle!" he turned his gaze over to look at Stacey and Marshall before speaking once more. "Could you have done the prison break while I _wasn't_ in the boathouse? First you take days to break the guy out and then you have the worst timing ever!"

"Uh, you wanted us to break Larry out?" asked Marshall.

"Of course! The guy keeps trying to kill you with robots, it's a great ratings boost and lessens the number of challenges I have to think up. Speaking of challenges, I've been delaying until you freed Larry but now it's going to take even longer because you messed up my hair!" Chris stormed off to find his makeup crew, leaving an astonished Stacey and Marshall standing on the dock. Stacey eventually groaned and massaged her temples.

"Hey, next time we try and arrest the guy, could you _not_ punch Sasquatchanakwa through a wall?"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Sasquatchanakwa: **is wearing a bandage over his head as he holds up a picture of Marshall and growls menacingly, drawing a finger across his throat.

* * *

**Outside the Killer Critic Cabin**

Despite the fact she wasn't getting any sort of response out of it, Wolf was still barking inquisitively into the radio Stacey had given her, pausing only to shake it around wildly and hold it up to her ear. She was still doing this when Heidi exited the Killer Critics cabin and came over to see what Wolf was up to.

"What've you got there Wolf? Have you been stealing stuff again? Everett's still annoyed about the origami thing you know." Wolf barked in protest and held out the radio to Heidi who took it curiously. "Does this thing work?" Wolf just shrugged so Heidi tried speaking into it. "Heeeelllllooo, anybody home?"

"Wolf! You figured out how to speak English?" Stacey's voice suddenly replied, evidently she'd been ignoring Wolf's persistent barking.

"No, it's Heidi, why'd you give Wolf a radio?"

"Heidi! That's police property, return it to my designated deputy immediately or I'll_" Heidi casually hurled the phone over her shoulder and right into Donovan's path. The hulking boy snatched out it of the air moments before it struck his face.

"So once again you attempt to kill me? What is this? An explosive?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, it's totally a bomb," Heidi drawled, "Let's just stand around talking about it until it goes off." Luckily Donovan's ability to detect sarcasm wasn't put to the test because Stacey's voice burst out of the radio once more; suggesting it probably wasn't a bomb at all.

"_send you to jail for a long time! Do you hear me!?"

"There is no bomb," Donovan said grimly, "your trick has failed, this just a communication device for that foolish girl who thinks she is an agent of justice." He turned around to look at a suspiciously shaped rock that almost certainly had not been outside the cabin earlier that morning. "Stop following me paranoid one!" he snapped, hurling the radio at the 'rock'. There was a yelp of pain before Everett tried to untangle himself from the grey cloak he'd been hiding under; Donovan used the distraction to stalk off.

"I don't trust you!" Everett shouted after him "stop scheming you maniac!" he found the radio that had been thrown at him and held it up to his ear.

"_Stealing police property! You're all crooks and lunatics! You better return that radio right away or so help me I'll_"

"Stacey wants this radio back," mused Everett, "she has a ponytail, Maria has a ponytail, therefore they must be in league and giving the radio to Maria is exactly the same as returning it to Stacey. Maria! I've found Stacey's radio!?" Maria poked her head out of the cabin window but immediately had to duck back inside as the radio came soaring through the window.

"The hell Everett!? Why would I want Stacey's radio?"

"Because you both have ponytails?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Everett paused at this and took a closer look before slapping his forehead angrily.

"Sorry I just realised that your ponytail is way longer than hers, forget I ever said anything," Everett hurled his grey cloak back over his shoulders and slunk off in the direction Donovan had departed in.

"Trust me Everett, I'm trying," Maria sighed and decided she may as well figure out what going on with this radio, she spoke into it and cut Stacey off mid rant. "Listen, I don't know anything about how your radio was stolen but you can come over to the Killer Critic Cabin to collect it."

"If you think I'm going to walk into such an obvious trap you're sadly mistaken! You bring the radio to me, and come alone too!"

"Oh for pity's sake no one here is setting up a trap for you, Donovan and Everett already filled up the paranoia quota on this island don't you know?"

"Don't compare me to those two! And I don't trust anything you say; you're using illegal cybernetic modifications!"

"Ok so we're going to accuse me of being a cyborg now? So not giving your radio back now."

"Maria your negotiating skills are terrible," observed Lauren from where she was sitting on the other side of the room sketching. "Maybe I should talk to Stacey instead."

"Go ahead," Maria tossed the radio over to Lauren, "I haven't even left the cabin yet and I'm already drowning in lunacy this morning."

"_You can't steal police equipment!" Stacey had resumed ranting, unaware that the radio had been passed on once again. "You have a moral duty to return this radio."

"Really? That's strange," Lauren said dreamily, "I thought you owned the radio, not the police."

"Maria? Did you use your mods to change your voice!? What the hell is going on in there?"

"I don't know, I was drawing a picture of a dolphin, do you want to see it?"

"No! I want my radio back!"

"Where are you?"

"Near the Dock of Shame."

"Do they serve food there?"

"No!"

"Oh, then I'd rather not go there, I'll get someone else to bring it over instead," without waiting for Stacey's presumably enraged reply, Lauren thumped loudly on the wall separating their side of the cabin from the boy's side. "Matthew! If you're finished writing hate mail to everyone you know could you deliver a radio to the dock of shame?"

"Nowhere near finished!" Matthew called back from the other side of the wall, "but I could use a break to think up more reasons why I HATE Donovan, give me a second."

"Oh great nice of you invite another loony around here," said Maria, "I'll just make myself some breakfast before Chris announces something stupid." Maria opened the cabin just in time for Matthew to burst in and then nimbly darted around him, leaving the room right as he entered. If Matthew thought this was bizarre he didn't show it.

"It's an actual radio right?" he asked. "Not a person, because if it's a person that makes it an escort mission and I HATE escort missions in every freaking game! When the pathfinder isn't getting the person you have to protect stuck against walls the AI has them run right into a mob of enemies and they get killed in like five seconds and you have to start all over AGAIN!"

"You know, I don't think video games are improving your anger issues," Lauren told him, "and yes, it's an actual radio."

"Good, so it's a courier mission then, is it one of those stupid ones with an outrageously low time limit or a ton of annoying obstacles though?"

"Um, the longer you take to deliver the radio the angrier Stacey will get if that's what you mean by a time limit."

"Ha! I do not fear anger, I am ANGER!" Matthew laughed hysterically as he snatched the radio from Lauren and bolted out the cabin door. Judging by Heidi's shocked shout and Wolf's reproachful yelp he nearly barrelled into the two of them as he hurtled off towards the Dock of Shame.

"What's his hurry?" asked Heidi, "I haven't seen anyone run that fast since I started giving out autographs." Wolf somehow managed to look at Heidi with an expression that was the pure embodiment of 'oh really?' "Don't look at me like that, it's not my fault I'm not that popular in whatever forest you live in, other people still want my autograph."

* * *

**Near the Dock of Shame**

Since Marshall had left some time ago to help the interns with transporting Sasquatchanakwa to the medical tent, Stacey had been standing alone by the Dock of Shame ranting into her radio without any reply for some time now. Despite her numerous threats of imprisonment and claims that everyone on the island was a criminal her radio hadn't been returned yet but she wasn't giving up her methods. "I don't care if you're a cyborg or a lunatic or a gangster you'll never the light of day again if I don't get my radio back ASAP! Do you hear me!?" Strangely, Stacey's voice appeared to have an echo because after she spoke into the radio the words were repeated from a nearby location. "Sound distortion now? Anymore illegal equipment you creeps want to use? I'm going to_"

"You don't have to speak into the radio anymore, it's right here," Matthew told her, strolling up and handing her the radio. "Did I complete the mission or what? I HATE having to redo missions!"

"The mission? Oh wait! You're a vigilante right!? You had to fight off a bunch of criminals to get this radio back to me."

"Hundreds of them," bragged Matthew, who'd actually just had a minor run in with a few particularly angry squirrels. "It was a battle like never seen before, shame you missed it."

"Yeah, I was really busy arresting Sasquatchanakwa at the time," lied Stacey, "I sort of managed to throw him through the Boathouse wall by accident."

"Good. I HATE Sasquatchanakwa just I HATE Donovan and I HATE Larry!" Matthew paused for a moment as if working up courage before blurting out, "thanks for stopping Larry from killing me or something that was cool."

"Uh, no worries, just doing my job," Stacey trailed off into an awkward silence that was thankfully interrupted by Chris' voice booming out of the loudspeakers. It was probably the first time in history that anybody was glad to hear from the demented game show host.

"The announcement of today's challenge was ever so slightly delayed by SOMEONE collapsing the boat house on my head and crippling a native inhabitant of the island," started Chris, "In other news, Larry has escaped once again and will most likely be planning to kill you all horribly at some later date. Anyway, onto the important business, I need all of you filthy peasants to attend a village meeting beside Lake Wawanakwa. Oh, and if you are particularly attached to your limbs I wouldn't stand too close the water," Chris broke off to laugh hysterically for several moments, "see you there!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Heidi: Filthy peasants? Where does he get off calling **_**me**_** that? I mean Larry and Donovan, sure, call them filthy peasants all day for all I care but calling me a filthy peasant? That's just plain offensive.**

**Cynthia: Judging by Chris Mclean's word choices, I'm fairly sure we will have to suffer through a particularly odious themed challenge this time. Just think how dangerous the last challenge was and that was unscheduled, Chris has had plenty of time to plan this one.**

**Donovan: So Larry has escaped once again? That is good, no doubt he will challenge us again and we will all grow stronger. Unfortunately the other campers do not understand my plan, the paranoid one is becoming a nuisance, as is the enraged one. I believe they will soon align themselves with the red haired one in her efforts to destroy me. I am not afraid.**

**Everett: **Is still disguised as a rock and doesn't say anything

**Alice: Oh dear, I think Everett has decided to become a wizard, he's been wandering around with a cloak on all morning. I wonder why he hasn't asked for my advice yet?**

**Stacey: Finally **_**someone **_**on this island thanks me for selfless efforts to fight crime. A lesser officer might have given up after seeing how this island is populated almost slowly scammers, thugs and lunatics but I'll keep fighting to bring justice to Camp Wawanakwa!**

**Chance: Why aren't I surprised that Larry managed to escape? Even with Marshall helping out Stacey is pretty much guaranteed to stuff up her 'cases,' just glad I didn't get dragged into it. I'll get my winning streak record eventually.**

* * *

**On the shores of Lake Wawanakwa **

When the campers arrived on the shores of Lake Wawanakwa they found that the floating platform that Chris often lazed about on was conspicuously absent. In fact Chris wasn't even hovering around on his jetpack like the ground wasn't good enough for him today either. He was standing by the edge of the lake dressed up as a knight complete with plate armour and a plumed helmet. Unfortunately said helmet reduced his visibility to the point that he stood there for several seconds unaware that the campers had arrived before a camera man finally shouted at him. Chris muttered sourly and proceeded with the slow process of turning around to face the contestants while dressed in heavy plate armour. "Salutations!" he called out, but it was so muffled and distorted by his helmet the contestants just heard a sort of choking gurgle.

"Is he dying?" asked Lauren, "because I was just thinking that armour would be great to use in one of my art projects." With an irritated growl Chris wrenched the visor of his helmet up and glared at the assembled campers.

"Could you slackers get here any slower?" he demanded, sweat visibly pouring down his face, "this armour is heavy as hell and I feel like I'm getting oven roasted in here!"

"We wouldn't be so lucky," muttered Maria, much to the amusement of those around her.

"We'll see if you're laughing during the challenge," Chris warned them, not that he could have done anything else, seeing as he could barely move in his armour. "Now before we start, I'm going to tell all of you a story from_"

"There is no time for this Mclean," interrupted Donovan, "a great danger is approaching this island and we must_"

"Ha! Who told you about that? The dangerous stuff all got delivered by the pirates yesterday. Interns! That was supposed to be a secret operation! You think you'd notice an ogre like Donovan was watching you unload crates of_"

"I'm not talking about the challenge, you have awoken_"

"Yeeaah could do your loony talk some other time? I'm trying to start a challenge," Chris wasn't interested in hearing Donovan's story; he wanted to tell his own, start the challenge and then relax with a latte. "Now as I was saying before I was interrupted, a long time ago in faraway and mystical land, there was a small fishing village populated by filthy uneducated peasants. Now things were sailing along smoothly in this village until one day the fleet of fishing boats was attacked by a savage monster of the deeps, a fish as long two men and just as wide. The king heard of this monster and brought a mighty army to the village," Chris paused and gestured to Chef who standing off camera dressed up as a king and the man grumpily stomped over to Chris and recited his lines.

"Fear not villagers, I have brought my best knights to slay this beast, go forth and kill that aquatic punk!" Chris frowned at the part about killing an aquatic punk but continued his story all the same.

"The knights took to the water and attempted to slay this mighty fish but none could stand against it, partially because they couldn't' walk on water," Chris paused again expecting laughter but resumed when it was apparent that nobody found it funny. "One by one the knights were all slain by the beast and the king believed that all was lost. Thankfully, a heroic and handsome villager sailed out on his small fishing boat and miraculously managed to lure the fish into a giant net and drag it back before the king. The king was very impressed by this…"

"Uh yeah," Chef struggled to remember his lines, "you have proven far mightier than my own knights and thus I knight you," Chef tapped Chris on his armoured shoulders with a cheap prop sword. "Arise, Fishing Knight of uh, Small Fishing Village."

"And all the villagers cheered with joy," finished Chris, glaring at the gathered interns until they managed some half-hearted cheering. Cynthia clapped enthusiastically for several seconds until she noticed the other contestants were all staring at her incredulously.

"I beg your pardon, is it not polite to clap at the end of a show?"

"That wasn't a show," said Marshall, "that was Chris injecting heroin straight into his brain this morning and forgetting what the hell a challenge is."

"Shut it loser!" Chris tried to advance on the martial artist but he barely made it one step in his armour before he just gave up. "Today's challenge is based off that wonderful story; just yesterday I imported in a delightfully deadly variety of aquatic horrors to this island and dumped them in Lake Wawanakwa_"

"These marine horrors presumably came from the sea, Lake Wawanakwa is fresh water so you've probably killed all of them," Sandra told him, "nice one genius."

"Nah, I didn't get them from the sea, there'll all freshwater monsters that make the brain eating amoeba at Lake Okoboji look _lame_. Anyway, just like the heroic villager in the story, the peasants of Wawanakwa, that's you losers, will attempt to capture your own sea monster. Because I'm feeling generous you'll be working in your teams instead of alone like it was in the story."

"I'm sorry but I refuse to take the life of anything," Alice told him, "I will harm neither monster nor man."

"Yeeaah about that, people are already pretty mad at me for that whole squirrel massacre thing Matthew caused so you won't be killing anything today," Chris pointed out two new platforms with square holes in them extending over the water. There are tanks below each of those, one for each team, with an open side to allow your water monster entry. Once you've got one inside, simply pull the lever located on the platform to close the tank. First team to successfully capture a monster wins the challenge."

"Do you seriously expect us to just dive into the lake and swim around until we find a monster?" asked Chance. "Because I really don't like our odds of just grabbing a sea monster and hauling it into a tank and then escaping before we close it."

"Nope, I've helpfully provided both teams with the nets, oars and the materials necessary to build a raft," he pointed over at two haphazard piles of wood and rope. "I will decide which member of the winning team was the most responsible for the monster's capture and name them the Fishing Knight of Wawanakwa and they will receive a very special reward. Now hurry up and build your rafts already! I need a latte, Interns! And someone get me out this armour before I die, this isn't fun people!"

* * *

**Killer Critics Raft Building Site**

"Donovan you twit we're supposed to be making a raft out of that," snapped Maria as Donovan picked up a sturdy plank of wood and wandered off with it.

"I will sharpen this into a weapon," he told her, "if you wish to battle monsters of the deep with a few nets that is your choice."

"We're not allowed to kill anything though," Lauren said, "that's sort of the whole point of the nets and the tank."

"My plan is far too complex for the likes of you," sneered Donovan, "you will see soon enough," he cast his eyes over to where Everett was huddled by the pile of wood shivering violently, "or maybe later seeing the work ethics around here are severely lacking."

"It's so cold," muttered Everett between chattering teeth, "I can't believe how cold it is here, are we in the arctic?"

"What the hell man, it isn't cold, I HATE it when people complain about the weather," announced Matthew, "like, you can't do anything about it so why bother?"

"Nah it's nothing to do with the weather," Heidi assured him, "I just bet Everett he couldn't eat that whole tub of ice cream last night and his brain is still frozen now. That's why he's been running around all morning dressed as a rock."

"I wondered why there was no ice cream left for my breakfast, I HATE it when people eat all the ice cream!"

"Ice cream isn't a valid breakfast anyway," Maria told him, "now can we please focus on building this raft sometime before the world ends? Find the best bits of wood and get them side by side so we can bind them together." Everett, who now seemed to have developed a nervous twitch in his leg on top of everything else, found a twig in the pile and inspected it curiously.

"Can we use this for the raft?" he asked, "it looks lightweight."

"I don't think you could fit six of us on that," Lauren told him serenely, "but you're welcome to try."

"No he isn't," Maria said exasperatedly, "can we have useful suggestions only please?" she took the twig off Everett and hurled it over her shoulder. The motion caught Wolf's eye and girl bounded off after the twig, thinking she was playing fetch or something. Unfortunately, while she lost track of where the twig landed, Donovan was still skulking around sharpening a wooden plank with a rock and Wolf decided to steal that instead. Without warning she lunged at Donovan and grabbed the plank, starting a bizarre game of tug of war. Donovan swore and dropped the rock he was holding in order to get a better grip on the plank while Wolf snarled and growled at him.

"Enough beast! You have animal strength but it will not help you here," Donovan wrenched the plank out of Wolf's hands and proceeded to hold it high over his head. Wolf persistently started jumping up and down trying unsuccessfully to reach it. "One of you call her off, I don't have time for this." Maria looked expectantly at Heidi, who was probably best on the team at telling Wolf what to do. The red haired girl suddenly became extremely busy with the process of building the raft and pointedly ignored everything going on around her. Maria heaved a sigh before giving off a sharp whistle to get Wolf's attention. The wild girl's stopped what she was doing and turned around to look at Maria questioningly.

"Leave Donovan alone and come over here," Maria told her, "actually we need to discuss who's going to remain behind to operate the tank lever so you better come back over here as well Donovan." Wolf bounded back without hesitation but Donovan paused to check whether his impromptu spear was sharp enough before lumbering over to join the rest of his team. Lauren, Matthew, Heidi and Everett were still working on cobbling to the raft together so Maria figured they could keep working on that while she spoke her piece. "Listen we need some reliable back on the platform to close the tank once we get a giant fish in there. Do we have any volunteers?" Of course, pretty much everyone bar Donovan, Matthew and Wolf probably would have loved to stay back on shore but before any of them could voice such an opinion Everett had a sudden violent twitch in his neck, his head snapped to one side.

"Ugh, I think I just gave myself whiplash," he groaned, rubbing at his neck. "Hurts like hell."

"Ok, anyone other than Everett?" tried Maria.

"I'll stay," offered Heidi, "I can pull that lever like a pro when the time comes."

"You can't do that!" insisted Matthew, "you're really violent, we need to fight the giant monsters."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Heidi told him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "and not as a negative comment about my personality."

"Is irritating as the red haired one is, Matthew is right in saying she is dangerous and that is useful now," Donovan agreed, "Let the artist stay on shore." Maria rolled her eyes and decided just to go along with that proposal just to stop an argument from starting.

"Whatever, provided that Lauren is ok with that and won't start day dreaming or something."

"Oh no that's fine," Lauren beamed enthusiastically, "I'll be far too busy watching you all fight sea monsters to start day dreaming."

"Strangely I don't feel overly comforted by that," muttered Maria.

* * *

**Screaming Fans Raft Building Site**

It was a widely held belief amongst the Screaming Fans that their opponents the Killer Critics were crazy at worst, incompetent at best. That belief was certainly reinforced when they could all easily observe two of the Killer Critics fighting over a stick while a third was twitching around like Chris was constantly blasting him with electric current. Cynthia shook her head in disapproval as she leaned comfortably on her cane.

"Our opponents display quite outrageous behaviour despite being in the middle of a challenge," she observed coldly. "One might think they aren't taking this show seriously."

"What gave that away?" Chance asked sarcastically, "Donovan's serious but only because he thinks he's on some sort of bizarre mission to make us all stronger. He thinks he's immune from every vote because the winner won't be worthy unless they beat him."

"Yes well if he gets to merge we'll just boot him immediately to prove him wrong," Sandra said distractedly while she drew a complex diagram in the dirt, "can someone check my design plans? I need to be sure I'm minimising resistance to motion but the hull has to be reinforced too or else the first monster to so much as sneeze at us will crack our craft in half."

"I hate to point out the obvious but we only have a bunch of wooden planks and some rope," pointed out Marshall, "why the hell does your diagram look like your designing a battleship?"

"B4!" Alice called out randomly, "oh, sorry I thought we were playing battleships. That game sounds much more amusing now that my powers are gone; no one seems to have brought the game along though."

"Ugh, could we keep the lunacy to a minimum please?" asked Sandra, who was now being forced to make some serious revisions to her design plans. "I'm sure you were supposed to be a member of the Killer Critics."

"Oh no, there's far too much negative energy on that team," Alice assured her, "if I went near Everett and Matthew I'd be drowned in a sea of rage and fear. No offense to them, but their energies are way out of whack."

"Matthew isn't so bad," protested Stacey, "it's just that the injustices of the world have driven him into a fury. Some days I feel the same."

"Some days?" asked Chance, "cough, illegal gambling, cough."

"Don't push your luck you greedy scam artist!" shouted Stacey, "Let's see you play your gambling tricks when you get thrown in isolation."

"Yeah ok those two are a match made in heaven," interrupted Marshall tiredly, "can we just hurry up_"

"I don't think so, such rage would doom a relationship," advised Cynthia, blatantly interrupting Marshall, "a couple should always speak to one another with complete respect for a relationship to work."

"Oh because that's so likely," scoffed Chance.

"I'd rather that you didn't insinuate that I am foolish, I have the best education money can buy."

"This is ridiculous," Marshall groaned, "can we please just get away from these demented conversation topics and just build our raft? Sandra, have you fixed you design yet?"

"Of course, in light of recent revelations about our severe lack of materials I've cut down the number of harpoon guns from ten to five. It was silly having more guns than we could possibly fire anyhow."

"There won't be any harpoon guns, look," Marshall grabbed a second stick and drew a huge cross over Sandra's design. "I don't know why you keep going on about how ridiculous Alice is when you draw science fiction rubbish like this in the middle of simple challenge. "

"This is science, it can't be ridiculous!" protested Sandra, "All the harpoon guns in the world don't compare to prancing around the camp making psychic predictions and offering cheap advice to anyone who stands still long enough."

"I don't prance," Alice corrected politely, "we went over this already."

"Yeah? Well your hair is still dyed green!"

"You wear safety glasses in the absence of dangerous chemicals."

"You wear wizard robes despite the fact there's no such thing as magic!"

"And you wear a lab coat while we are not in a laboratory or conducting any sort of experiment."

"Really there is no need to argue in such a fashion," Cynthia cut in, "we must act civilised and work as a team."

"Plus if you don't shut up I'll have both of you arrested for Disturbing the Peace," Stacey added harshly. "I'm the law around these parts."

"Ah, good old Officer Stacey, reasonable as always," Chance joked, "will they get thrown in isolation as well or do you reserve that for illegal gambling scam artists?"

"No, they can go in general population," Stacey told him, "you'd just get sent to isolation because your scams are a danger to other prisoners. Even if they are criminals they deserve not to have other crooks conning them out of their possessions."

"That's nice, now if you clowns are finished threatening each other I have drawn a proper diagram this time around," announced Marshall, "one that actually makes sense."

"It's just a wonky rectangle with some squiggly lines running across it," complained Sandra, "how is that better than mine?"

"I didn't say I was artist, and it's better than yours because it looks like a raft and can actually be made without a platoon of military engineers on hand."

"Fine, but it's _really_ boring doing this challenge without any proper science, last time I got to throw acid at killer robots," grumbled Sandra, "I suppose Greeny Mcpacifist will be staying behind on the platform? Since she doesn't want to risk hurting the poor little sea monsters."

"If by Greeny Mcpacifist you're referring to me," started Alice, "then yes, I would like to stay back on the platform but only if that's fine with you. I understand you might be a little scared to go out on the water."

"As if, I'm not afraid of some overgrown guppies!"

"Here we go again," said Marshall, "anyone feel like building a raft? Nobody? Fine, I'll just build it myself, no worries."

* * *

**Confessional**

**Lauren: I'm rather glad that I get to stay on shore, the monsters are one thing but I don't trust Donovan with that spear. He's up to something dangerous, I can just tell. Oh and do you think I should paint the water blue or green? Or maybe greeny blue?**

**Sandra: So the others wanted to build a BORING raft, at last I'll get to examine some mutant aquatic life forms, that might make up for it. And by the way, wearing a lab coat and safety glasses is **_**nothing**_** compared to wizard robes and green hair!**

**Chance: We had enough trouble just getting the raft built; I can't imagine how the hell we're actually going to catch a monster. I suppose Sandra is probably going to try and design a super net or something.**

**Everett: **is wearing his rock disguise like a blanket **so cold, have to fight the monsters in my head, no in the lake **he twitches violently and falls out of view.

**Matthew: I HATE sea monsters! I'm going to destroy every single one of them. Uh, I mean catch one of them so we win the challenge. Sorry got a little carried away there.**

**Cynthia: I'm quite fond of some peaceful fishing trips every now again. Something tells me that this will be just a bit different though.**

* * *

**Edge of Lake Wawanakwa**

Having shed his heavy armour and quenched his thirst for expensive lattes, Chris returned to the lake side to observe how the challenge was proceeding. While he had been 'busy' the interns had constructed him a makeshift wooden fort which he was now standing on the battlements of while he surveyed the contestant's progress. As far as he could tell the rafts looked mostly finished but neither team seemed overly eager to go monster hunting. The Killer Critics at least had their raft on water and were testing whether it would hold all their weight while the Screaming Fans still had their raft resting on the shore while they argued about last minute modifications. "It's about time this challenge got started, oh Chef, would you be so kind as to give the Killer Critics a push start?" Chef emerged from the trees pushing the infamous giant mechanical fan ahead of him.

"With pleasure," he chuckled evilly and flipped the on switch, unleashing a powerful gust of wind in the direction of Killer Critic's Raft. The water rippled out in waves as the raft, six members of the Killer Critics aboard it, was propelled out towards to centre of the lake. Chris gestured for Chef to cut the fan before smirking at the camera.

"Let the games begin!"

* * *

**Out on the Lake**

The sudden gust of wind threw the Killer Critics into a maelstrom of chaos, the whole team losing what little organisation they had in the first place. Lauren was nearly knocked off the platform entirely, forced to grasp at the lever to stop her fall, sending the tank crashing closed with nothing inside it. Out on the raft everyone came perilously close to toppling into the water where, disturbed by racket, a seething mass of dark shapes was moving below. While most of them scrambled towards the centre of the raft the moment they were able, Matthew was still filled with an unfathomable rage against sea creatures and remained at the edge, striking at the water with his oar.

"You think I'm scared of you!" he roared at the water, "come up and face me!" There was a flash of silvery scales and bristling teeth and suddenly half of the oar was missing. Heidi took the opportunity to seize Matthew by the edge of his hoodie and drag him away from the edge.

"We just need to catch ONE!" she shouted in his ear, "don't bring the whole lot of them over here!" An angular fin emerged from beneath the waters as the creature it belonged to made a beeline for the raft. "Now look what you've done, someone net that thing or something."

"Net that thing?" Maria asked incredulously, "it doesn't work like that; how the hell do we use a net against something like this?" She never found because the creature suddenly dove beneath the raft and rammed up into it from below, shaking the whole thing precariously. Everett fell to his knees and started babbling some strange chant while Wolf let out a panicked howl and skipped around him. Back on shore Lauren was desperately trying to push the level back into its original position but the thing the mechanism appeared to have broken when she fell against, trapping the tank closed. Not that her teammates were likely to bring a sea monster back anytime soon anyway, things were not going well for the Killer Critics as the moment.

The commotion out on the lake was finally enough to snap the Screaming Fans out of their argument and for a moment they all just stared at the chaos before realising they were supposed to be out there too. "Sucks to be them," muttered Chance, "how about we wait over here until they rile up a few more monsters and then just slink over there and grab one of them from the edge of pack? Preferably a smaller one if possible."

"We can't just wait here, we've got to get out there and do something!" Marshall insisted, the boy apparently uncomfortable with the idea of leaving the other team to their fate.

"By the looks of it they won't be able to hold out much longer anyway," commented Sandra, pointing over at where various 'things' were looming out of the water, beating at the flimsy raft while the critics ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. "If we want to use them as a distraction we better get this show on the water."

"It's unsporting to sit back and watch whatever demented denizens of the deep Chris has imported tear our fellow contestants apart, I agree, we must go out there," said Cynthia.

"You're all mad, don't tell me that any of you actually _want_ to go out there any earlier than we have to?" asked Chance.

"Do it or I'll charge you with allowing the Occurrence of Grievous Harm through Negligence!" barked Stacey, starting to push their raft towards the lake water.

"Alice, standby the lever!" ordered Marshall and he and the others joined Stacey in pushing the raft; "we need to end this challenge ASAP before someone ends up dead!"

* * *

**Fort Mclean on the Lakeside **

"What a bunch of babies," scoffed Chris from the safety of his wooden fort, "Chef, is the original meat ball bazooka repaired?"

"Yeah, yeah, I fixed the darn thing Mclean; you shouldn't have let those pirates break it."

"Don't blame me for that! Anyway, if it looks like someone is about to die blast whatever's killing them with the bazooka ok? I'd rather not have to deal with ANOTHER lawsuit."

"You only want to intervene if they're about to die?" asked Chef, sounding a bit uncertain, "Shouldn't we immediately pull them out of the water if they fall in?"

"No way dude, footage of them thrashing around in the water will make the ratings skyrocket like you wouldn't believe! Now all this action is making me thirsty, Interns! Where's my latte!"

* * *

**Back out on the Lake**

For the time being none of the various monsters of the deep seemed to be making serious attempts to destroy the Killer Critics raft but it still wasn't overly pleasant being jolted around constantly. Despite their best efforts to stay away from the edge of the raft, no one was making much of an attempt to catch anything; critics were often coming within inches of falling into the water. After another ferocious bump Everett lost his footing and spun about like a whirling dervish, accidently flinging his grey cloak into the water. Seemingly forgetting that he had more important things to worry about, Everett lunged over and grabbed the end of cloak, trying to haul it back onto the boat. Of course because the critics were having the luck from hell today one of the water monsters had managed to get tangled in it and Everett was currently engaged in a wrestling match with some sort of primeval horror.

"This cloak possesses the power to turn me into a stone!" proclaimed Everett, "your fangs don't stand a chance." Just to prove him wrong, the giant fish sunk its teeth deep into the cloak while it tried to untangle its fins from the waterlogged fabric.

"Not the time for dungeons and dragons Everett!" shouted Heidi as she joined him in heaving back on the cloak, two of them managing to pull the fish close enough to the raft that Matthew could beat at it with his broken half-oar. Of course another bump at this point would have been disastrous, probably sending all three of them hurtling over the side of the boat to have a rather close encounter with the fish they were fighting. Thankfully the sea monsters had found something else to distract them from the Killer Critics and to be honest even they were starting to get annoyed by the sound of Wolf's constant barking and howling above them.

The Screaming Fans approached the scene on their own raft, which was for some reason larger despite the fact they had less members, and began pelting rocks they'd gathered into the water and splashing about loudly with their oars. This had the intended effect with many of the aquatic horrors heading over to investigate them instead and others deciding there was far too much excitement going on and descending back into the depths of the lake. It bought the Killer Critics enough of a reprieve that they could stop scrambling around the deck and actually try and capture the giant fish before it escaped from Everett's ridiculous stone camouflage cloak. "Thanks for the assist guys!" called Heidi, freeing one of her hands to wave at the Screaming Fans. "Now can we get a net over here?"

"Sure I'll_" Maria stopped dead when she turned around and realised that Wolf had made the curious decision to drape most of their nets over herself before rolling about the deck in an effort to tangle them as much as possible. "Wolf! Ugh, why would you do that now of all times? How are we supposed to catch anything with all the nets like that!?" Wolf just whined and when she tried to jump back onto her feet she failed rather spectacularly, horribly tangled as she was. Maria desperately tried to get one of the nets free of the wild girl but it was near impossible with Wolf howling and thrashing around, apparently she didn't like being out on water very much at all.

"Is this a bad time to tell you that tank is broken and I can't get it back open?" called out Lauren from back on the platform. "I tried to fix it but all I had were some hair ties and a blue pencil," she paused for a moment before adding, "but it didn't work," like that needed to be said. Maria gave up trying to untangle Wolf in disgust and pretty much gave up the challenge as an inevitable loss, as did most of her teammates. Donovan however seemed more determined than ever and waved his makeshift spear at the sky.

"The time of the ritual has come," he intoned grimly, while everyone looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "To shield this island from a great evil, I shall shed the blood of the deeps," Donovan lashed out with his spear, gashing the fish's side and sending blood trickling into the water.

"Donovan you complete and utter nut! We're not supposed to kill them!" shouted Heidi, letting go of the cloak in order to turn around and shout at him. Donovan completely ignored her and continued his strange ritual, supposedly to 'shield the island.' "Let it be as your blood, you are wounded by this place." Blood in the water had drawn many of the ferocious giant fish back around the Killer Critics raft, circling the trapped and wounded fish hungrily but Donovan wasn't finished yet. "Let it be that your blood is bound with the blood of a new comer, a stranger to these waters as you shall be to this island." With a sudden terrifying determination Donovan seized by one of her arms, extended it over the water and held the cutting edge of wood over it. That's when all hell broke loose on the Killer Critics raft.

Before Donovan had a chance to injure his teammate, Matthew cannoned right into him with a wordless cry, flailing about with his broken oar and the pair of them hurtled over the edge of the raft. Moments later Everett was in the water as well as the wounded fish wrenched itself free of the cloak, dragging both the boy and tattered ruins of fabric over the edge. The frenzied denizen of the deep swam a brief distance away before powering back to slam into the raft one final time, cracking it right in half. Maria and Heidi lost their balance and were pitched into the water to join the rest of their team. Wolf nimbly managed to remain on her section of the raft and started to desperately paddle it back towards the shore, difficult at that was when still was still tangled in nets.

"Forget the challenge!" shouted Marshall, throwing his net aside carelessly, "we need to get them out of the water! Chance distract that crazy fish with something!" While the others worked to move their raft towards the struggling Killer Critics, Chance picked up one of their spare rocks and pelted it right at the giant fish currently mauling the other raft. The monster was sufficiently distracted from its attempt to chomp through wooden planks and torpedoed towards the Screaming Fans raft instead. "I didn't mean bring it over here!"

"How was I supposed to know that?" snapped Chance, "you just told me to distract the damn thing!"

"Too late now, I wouldn't worry about it," Cynthia told them, somehow calm amidst the chaos as she extended her cane out into the water for Maria to grab a hold of. With Sandra's help the two of them were able to heave the dripping wet girl onto the raft while Stacey pulled Heidi up onto another section of the raft.

"That's two of them," said Marshall, "where'd the rest of_" the giant fish smashed into the back of their raft, sinking its teeth into the wood and refusing to let go. Marshall darted over to beat it back into the water with his oar but Chance reached out to stop him, another idea in mind.

"That's our fish! Let's get back to the tank why it's still latched to us and we can trap it and end the challenge!"

"No way, we can't just leave the others!" protested Stacey, "it's our duty to save them from being mauled to death by whatever monster Chris Mclean dumped in this lake!"

"Look, they'll be fine; they're getting back to shore on their own!" Chance was telling the truth, the remaining four Killer Critics out on the lake were making their way out. Wolf still had some of her raft left and was nearing the shore while Lauren had managed to throw a spare rope out for Everett to catch and was reeling him in like a fish. Even monsters of the deep seemed unwilling to bother Donovan and he was swimming back to the shore without being hassled. Matthew still had what was left of his oar and was using it as a floatation device while he kicked for the shore.

"Fine, then lets finish this!" Stacey said grimly and every one of them that had an oar put their backs into rowing for the tank. Seeming to suddenly realise something was wrong when the raft began rapidly moving once again, the fish tried to free its jaw from where it was clamped but Sandra quickly moved to cast a net over it, trapping it in place.

"I don't think so!" she crowed, "Alice, you better be damn ready to close that tank!"

"Is this going to hurt the fish?" asked the green haired girl as the raft rapidly approached, "because I won't allow myself to_"

"Hurting the fish is the least of our worries right now!" called out Marshall, "THREE, TWO, ONE!" The edges of the raft slammed against the sides of the tank opening and Marshall heaved against the fish with his oar, pushing it clear of the raft and into the actual tank. At the same time, his teammates heaved backwards with their oars, propelling the raft away from the tank. "CLOSE THE TANK!" Despite her misgivings, Alice wrenched the lever forwards and the door of the tank slid into place, sealing it closed. An alarm went off and lights flashed around the tank which seemed to be Chef's cue to do something because he hefted up the meatball bazooka and unleashed a barrage of flaming meatballs into the water, driving back the remaining sea monsters who were still circling around hungrily.

"Screaming Fans win!" announced Chris, bounding down from his fort looking far too cheerful about what had occurred out on the lake. "Yo Chef, pass me the sword, I need to knight one of them remember?"

"No can do, I gave it to the interns," Chef told him distractedly; the man was having way too much fun firing the bazooka into the lake.

"Is everyone in this place completely useless?" snapped Chris, "now I can't just knight someone and leave without knowing whether all the campers survived or not, Interns! I need that sword pronto!" The Killer Critics, bar Heidi and Maria who were still with the Screaming Fans on their raft, had made it back to shore where Lauren was currently telling them to imagine they had warm towels. Judging by the way they were still shivering furiously, it didn't appear to be working very well. At least everyone was mostly uninjured though, Everett had lost his cloak but it was a rubbish disguise anyway, he'd be better off without it.

"Sucks to be a Killer Critic right now," said Chance, "no offense to you two," he added for Maria and Heidi. Cynthia was inspecting the huge bite mark taken out of the raft where the giant fish had been latched on.

"None taken," said Maria, "after what happened out there it definitely sucks to be a Killer Critic."

"If we'd taken any longer to trap that fish it would have sucked to a Screaming Fan as well," she told them, "It might well have torn our raft apart too."

"I'm going to tear Donovan apart!" Heidi was fuming, practically steaming with rage now that she'd gotten over the shock of the events. "It's all that stupid jerk's fault with his crazy ritual from hell!" the red head jumped from the raft to the platform and began to storm over to where Donovan was standing slightly separate from his teammates.

"Oh hell Chris won't need to eliminate any of us because someone's about to die over there!" groaned Maria, "thanks guys, I've got to get over there!" Maria jumped off the raft as well and headed after Heidi while the Screaming Fans paddled the remaining distance to the shore and disembarked in a slightly more orderly fashion. Maria needn't have hurried though because she was only half way to her team when Heidi reached Donovan and furiously kicked at his shin.

"You idiot! You have no right to just grab someone and try to cut them open for some stupid ritual!" she shouted, "it doesn't make any sense, what the hell did you think you were doing!?" Donovan just stared down at her impassively in the face of her rage and answered in his usual flat tone.

"You would never understand the significance of what I was trying to do, had the enraged one not interfered this island would have been a much safer place."

"_It_ will be a safer place when your crazy butt gets kicked off this island tonight and you'll be lucky if that's all that happens to you."

"I'm not afraid of you or getting eliminated tonight," he told her calmly, "I know it will not happen."

"Ugh you are so irritating! What is wrong with you_"

"Whoa, whoa and whoa," Chris interrupted loudly, "not that all the drama isn't great for the ratings and all but I've finally got the sword back and I'd kinda like to announce the rewards now."

"Ok firstly, did you say rewards?" asked Maria, "and secondly, if you actually _want_ to give the rewards out they're bound to be crappy as usual. Because you'd never be happy about something that would actually be useful to us."

"Did I say you could interrupt me!? I've already told you that I don't like your voice."

"Too bad, we all ended up in a monster infested lake because of you so I think you can put up with the sound of my voice." Over with the Screaming Fans Stacey muttered something about cybernetic mods but thankfully Maria didn't hear her.

"Fine! Yes, there will be a second, previously unscheduled reward. In light of their heroic efforts, despite still failing abysmally anyway, I have a reward for the Killer Critics up first."

"I HATE consolation prizes!" raged Matthew, "it doesn't change the fact we lost!"

"I'm really sorry for breaking the lever by the way," interjected Lauren, "I feel really bad about it."

"Its fine," Heidi told her, "it was an innocent mistake unlike Donovan over here trying to kill me!"

"Oh yeah," Chris chuckled, "that was great, definitely glad I brought Donovan on this show, dude's crazy and the audiences love that kind of thing. Anyway, I figured there wasn't nearly enough drama on your team already so I may as well solve a little mystery that's been bothering you for a while, you might want to wake Everett up for this by the way." Chris gestured for a team of interns to wheel a television into view while Wolf prodded Everett with her toe as the boy seemed to have curled up into a ball and fallen asleep.

"Wha?" he slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Wolf, "don't turn me into a werewolf ok? I'm too tired right now." Wolf just pointed wordlessly at the TV screen until Everett turned his gaze over to it. "Oh, movie time."

"Movie time indeed," agreed Chris, "play the tape!"

The screen showed what appeared to be a feed from a camera in the boy's side of the Killer Critics and the footage was date stamped with a time early in the season. Donovan was apparently alone in the cabin because he casually went over to Everett's trunk and began rummaging through his belongings until he found a large wooden box marked SUPER IMPORTANT. Placing it on the floor Donovan opened the lid and the camera zoomed in to show its contents. On the underside of the lid was a sign that read _Everett's Antipsychotic Medication _and the box was split into a number of compartments, one for each day of the month with varying numbers of tablets and times of the day written in each one.

"This is weakness," declared the on-screen version of Donovan, "we shall see if these have any real power." He began to mess with the medication schedule, removing all the tablets from some sections and adding them randomly while also mixing up the times of day they were supposed to be taken. Donovan closed the box once he was done and put it back in Everett's trunk before the screen faded to black. No one quite knew what to say, least of all Everett himself, who was understandably in a haze of confusion after finding out he'd been taking the wrong dosages of medications practically since the day he arrived. Surprisingly, it was Lauren who finally broke the silence, just looking at Donovan in that serene way she had.

"Why would you interfere with a sick teammate's medication? He's been suffering all this time because of you and we never knew what was wrong."

"For the same reason I do most things, to make him stronger," Donovan answered simply, not at all disturbed by his behaviour being revealed. "Either he would perceive that his medication had been altered and turn his attention to more physical concerns rather alien nonsense or he would realise that the medication was not helping him and learn to live without it."

"Medical science doesn't work like that," said Sandra, "you can't just mess around with the chemicals in someone's head like that without provoking changes in behaviour and various side effects."

"He must learn to master his thoughts without the aid of psychiatric drugs or he will remain weak."

"HA! He is pretty pathetic," agreed Chris conversationally, "so Everett, what are you going to do? Fly into a psychotic rage and attack Donovan?" he suggested hopefully.

"No…I think I'll… I don't know," Everett shook his head as he could clear it like that and slowly climbed back upright before wandering away from the other campers without another word.

"You can still be eliminated even you don't turn up to the bonfire ceremony!" Chris called after him, "Now that I've managed to stir up even more ill will against Donovan and turn the Killer Critics into a ticking time bomb, it's time to announce our special Screaming Fans winner. Since only one of you seemed even remotely interested in completing the challenge at the end, the winner is Chance, come on up!"

"Gee, sorry we were more concerned about preventing injury and death," muttered Marshall, "guess we should have cared more about catching a giant fish."

"I'm going to pretend that no human being is so incapable of understanding how ratings work," Chris said sadly, "I mean seriously, injury and the likelihood of death just drive the viewing audience wild. Anyway," Chris paused as Chance reached him and lifted up the prop sword to tap it on each of the boy's shoulders. "I name you, Chance, the Fishing Knight of Wawanakwa and as a knight it is your place to judge the filthy peasants. That's why as your reward, it will be _you_, not the Killer Critics, who decides which of them will ride the boat of losers!"

"No!" shouted Heidi, "you can't do that! You've got to let us vote Donovan out tonight before he has a chance to wreck anything else."

"Too bad, it's up to Chance to decide who will be eliminated and we're not even going to wait until sundown. Critics, report to the bon fire pit, Fans, do whatever you want except for Chance who has to go to the confessional and vote one of the Critics out. See you soon losers!"

* * *

**Confessional**

**Chance: This isn't an easy decision, there is obviously more than one angle to look at this situation. If I eliminate Donovan like the Critics want they might be open to allying with me once we get to merge so I can dominate the votes but I can't forget that this is still a team game now. Donovan's antics weaken the Killer Critics and make them fight each other so leaving him on the team would be better for the Screaming Fans. If Donovan stays and one of their useful players goes maybe we can just decimate the Critics before the merge anyway. I vote for_ **the camera cuts away suddenly before he can finish speaking.

* * *

**The Bonfire Pit: After Chance's Choice**

"The vote has been cast," Chris told the seated Killer Critics, well at least those who were present, Everett obviously hadn't shown up since he'd left before the early ceremony was even announced. "All but one of you_"

"Having a bonfire while it's still bright feels stupid," interrupted Maria, "why'd you have to make the ceremony right now?"

"Because I don't like you, not one bit. Now as I was saying, all but one of you will receive an envelope of enraged hate mail. If you do not receive one, you must walk the dock of shame and ride the boat of losers to the brig where you will be imprisoned and NEVER EVER come back to the island. Alright, surprisingly I've got one for Everett, someone give that to him if you ever find that weirdo," Chris carelessly tossed the envelope towards the Killer Critics where Wolf eagerly snatched it out of the air like she was playing a game. "One for you Matthew, obviously Chance doesn't see you as threat."

"That rat! He should fear my rage!" complained Matthew as he caught his envelope and tore it into shreds.

"Lauren, you'll live to paint another day, Heidi, you get an envelope but that might not be a good thing since Donovan is probably going to kill you as part of some dark ritual." Donovan, sitting separate from his teammates, snorted at the suggestion and ignored Heidi's glare. "Wolf, despite the fact you have no idea what you're doing and probably don't understand any of this, you also get an envelope!" Wolf caught the second envelope and gave him a broad grin, evidently pleased with this turn of events. "I only have one envelope left, is this the end of Donovan?"

"It better be," muttered Heidi.

"The last envelope goes to… DONOVAN! Chance chose to eliminate Maria, finally! You have no idea how annoying that girl was."

"I'm right here you know," said Maria angrily, getting to her feet.

"Not for much longer! Now are you going to walk the dock of shame or is Chef going to have to drag you away?"

"I'll go, I'll go," said Maria tiredly, turning to face her teammates, "well I won't say that it's been fun but most of you were ok people in the end." Heidi jumped up and gave Maria a hug.

"I can't believe Chance would eliminate you instead of Donovan! It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe he thought she was the only one with any sanity and therefore the biggest threat on our team?" suggested Lauren as she walked up and hugged Maria as well. "I'll miss you."

"Remember this day whenever you need to rage," Matthew advised her, throwing a smart salute that Maria returned with a grin. Wolf didn't seem to know why Maria had to leave and whined sadly until Maria gave in and walked over to give the wild girl a hug.

"I'm not too late am I?" Everett emerged into the clearing looking oddly drained, "Chance told me that Maria was getting eliminated right now."

"It's true," Maria told him, "couldn't let me leave without giving me a hard time about being an android?"

"No, I'm sorry about that, I think a lot of things that don't match up with reality, I didn't want to offend you really," he tentatively extended his hand for Maria to shake and seemed surprised when she accepted and shook his hand.

"Sure you were annoying at times but you aren't a bad person, just a confused one, I hope you get better ok?" Everett nodded before stepping over to join his teammates. There was a brief silence before it became clear that Donovan was going to make no attempt to farewell her before Maria spoke again. "Thanks everyone, goodbye and good luck," with that she turned around and walked off towards the Dock of Shame.

"FINALLY!" said Chris, "that was BORING, now who will_?"

"Shut it Chris," said Matthew and as one the remaining Killer Critics stood up and left the clearing without waiting for Chris to finish speaking.

"What the hell guys, I need to do my ending monologue! Hey what's going on I_" the camera suddenly cut out and another episode of Total Drama Outrage came to a close.


End file.
